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Comic  Books 
By    AUTICMIXJS    TVAJRD. 

I. 

Artemus  Ward,  His  Book. 

11. 
Artemus  Ward;  His  Travels. 


***  ^oth  of  these  looks  are  profusely  embel- 
lished with    humorous    iUustrations,   and 
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BY 

Carleton,    Pablislier, 
Neur  York, 


ARTEMUS    WARD; 


HIS  TRAVELS. 


part  I  — ittiocdlaneons. 

Part  IJT  — ^itt0n9  ^^^  Moxmom. 


with  Comic  lUastratlons  by  IXInUeii. 


NEW  YORK : 

Carleton,  Publisher,  413  Broadway. 

LONDON:     S.     LOW,    SON    &    CO. 


M  PCOC  LXV. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1866,  by 

GEO.  W.  CARLETON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


5  Mtisitztt  tVis  Volume 

TO  AN  OLD  AND  TRIED  FRIEND:  A  RARE  COMIC 
artist:  a  GENIAL  AND  EXCELLENT  GENTLEMAN, 

Mr.  DAN.  SETOHELL,  of  Boston. 

Nkw  Toek,  1865. 


CONTENTS. 


PABT  I.— MISCELLANEOUS. 

PAOB 

L— A  War  Meeting 13 

n.— The  Draft  in  Baldinsville 22 

III.— Things  in  New  York 32 

IV.— In  Canada 41 

v.— The  Noble  Red  Man 48 

VI.— The  Serenade 50 

VII. — A  Romance. — "William  Barker,  the  Young  Patriot.  55 

VIII. — A  Romance. — The  Conscript 58 

IX. — A  Romance. — Only  a  Mechanic. 65 

X.— Boston 67 

XI. — A  Mormon  Romance. — Reginald  Gloverson T6 

XII. — Artemus  "Ward  in  Richmond 85 

XIII.— Artemus  Ward  to  the  Prince  of  Wales 94 

XIV.— Affairs  Round  the  Village  Green 104 

XV. — Agriculture 115 


PART  IL— TO  CALIFORNIA  AND  BACK. 

I. — On  the  Steamer 125 

II.— The  Isthmus  129 

III. — Mexico 136 

rV.— CaHfornia 140 

V. — Washoe 148 

VL— Mr.  Pepper 154 

VII. — Horace  Greeley's  Ride  to  Placerville 156 

VIIL— To  Reese  River 163 

IX.— Great  Salt  Lake  City , 169 

X. — The  Mountain  Fever 173 

XI.—"  I  am  Here" 178 

XIL— Brigham  Young 181 

XIII. — A  Piece  is  Spoken 188 

XIV.— The  Ball 190 

XV.— Phelps's  Ahnanac 193 

XVL— Hurrah  for  the  Road 195 

XVII. — Very  much  Married ' 210 

XVIII.— The  Revelation  of  Joseph  Smith 215 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


FAGB 

L — ARTBMUS  WRITINa  HIS  TRAVELS 1 

IL — ARTEMUS  AND  THE  DISTINGUISHED  ARTIST 15 

ni. — ^BETSEY  JANE  AND  HER  WARRIORS. 19 

rV. — AN  OBJECK  WHO  WON'T  GO  TO  THE  WAR. 39 

v.— THE  NOBLE  RED  MAN  AND  PRETTY  WAITER  GIRL 48 

VL— REGINALD  ON  THE  DIE 81 

Vn. — HAMLET  DYING  TO  SLOW   MUSIC 97 

Vm.— ARTEMUS  STROLLING  ABOUT  HIS  FARM 116 

IX. — ^AN  ANGELIC  CALIFORNIA   MINER 131 

X. — HORACE  GREELEY'S  MEMORABLE  RIDE 156 

XI. — ^THE  BOSTON  MAN  GETS  AGITATED 178 

Xn. — THE  NOBLE  RED  MAN  BECOMES  CIVILIZED 208 


PART  I. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


I. 

A  WAR  MEETING. 

OiTK  complaint  just  now  is  war  meetin's.  They've 
bin  havin'  'em  bad  in  varis  parts  of  our  cheerful  Re- 
public, and  nat'rally  we  caught  'em  here  in  Baldins- 
ville.  They  broke  out  all  over  us.  They're  better 
attended  than  the  Eclipse  was. 

I  remember  how  people  poured  into  our  town  last 
Spring  to  see  the  Eclipse.  They  l;^bored  into  a  im- 
pression that  they  couldn't  see  it  to  home,  and  so 
they  o^me  up  to  our  place.  I  cleared  a  very  hand- 
some amount  of  money  by  exhibitin'  the  Eclipse  to 
'em,  in  an  open-top  tent.  But  the  crowds  is  bigger 
now.  Posey  County  is  aroused.  I  may  say,  indeed, 
that  the  pra-hay-ories  of  Injianny  is  on  fire. 

Our  big  meetin'  came  off  the  other  night,  and  our 
old  friend  of  the  Bugle  was  elected  Cheerman. 

The  Bugle-Horn  of  Idhertyis  one  of  Baldinsville's 
most  eminentest  institootions.  The  advertisements 
are  well  written,  and  the  deaths  and  marriages  are 


14  A  WAB  MEETING. 

conducted  with  signal  ability.  The  editor,  Mr. 
Slinkers,  is  a  polish'd,  skarcastic  writer.  Folks  in 
these  parts  will  not  soon  forgit  how  he  used  up  the 
Eagle  of  Freedom,  a  family  journal  published  at 
Snootville,  near  here.  The  controversy  was  about  a 
plank  road.  "  The  road  may  be,  as  our  cotempo- 
rary  says,  a  humbug ;  but  our  aunt  isn't  bald-heded, 
and  we  haven't  got  a  one-eyed  sister  Sal !  Wonder 
if  the  Editor  of  the  Eagle  of  Freedom  sees  it  ?" 
This  used  up  the  Eagle  of  Freedom  feller,  because 
his  aunt's  head  does  present  a  skinn'd  appearance, 
and  his  sister  Sab  ah  is  very  much  one-eyed.  For 
a  genteel  home  thrust,  Mr.  Slinkers  has  few  ekals. 
He  is  a  man  of  great  pluck  likewise.  He  has  a  fierce 
nostril,  and  I  b'lieve  upon  my  soul,  that  if  it  wasn't 
absolootly  necessary  for  him  to  remain  here  and  an- 
nounce in  his  paper,  from  week  to  week,  that  "  our 
Gov'ment  is  about  to  take  vig'rous  measures  to  put 
down  the  rebellion" — ^I  b'lieve,  upon  my  soul,  this 
illustris  man  would  enhst  as  a  Brigadier  Gin'ral,  and 
git  his  Bounty. 


I  was  fixin'  myself  up  to  attend  tne  great  war 


A  WAR  MEETING.  15 

meetin',  when  my  daughter  entered  with  a  young 
man  who  was  evijentlyfrom  the  city,  and  who  wore 
long  hair,  and  had  a  wild  expression  into  his  eye. 
In  one  hand  he  carried  a  port-folio,  and  his  other  paw 
claspt  a  bunch  of  small  brushes.  My  daughter  in- 
troduced him  as  Mr.  Sweesiee,  the  distinguished 
landscape  painter  from  Philadelphy. 

"  He  is  a  artist,  papa.  Here  is  one  of  his  master- 
pieces— a  young  mother  gazin'  admirin'ly  upon  her 
first-born,"  and  ray  daughter  showed  me  a  really 
pretty  picter,  done  in  ile.  "  Is  it  not  beautiful,  papa  ? 
He  throws  so  much  soul  into  his  work." 

"  Does  he  ?  does  he  ?"  said  I — "  well,  I  reckon  I'd 
better  hire  him  to  whitewash  our  fence.  It  needs  it. 
What  will  you  charge,  sir,"  I  continued,  "  to  throw 
some  soul  into  my  fence  ?" 

My  daughter  went  out  of  the  room  in  very  short 
meeter,  takin'  the  artist  with  her,  and  from  the  em- 
phatical  manner  in  which  the  door  slam'd,  I  conclu- 
ded she  was  summut  disgusted  at  my  remarks.  She 
closed  the  door,  I  may  say,  in  italics.  I  went  into 
the  closet  and  larfed  all  alone  by  myself  for  over 
half  an  hour.     I  larfed  so  vi'lently  that  the  preserve 


16  A  WAR  MEETING. 

jars  rattled  like  a  cavalry  offisser's  sword  and  things, 
which  it  aroused  my  Betsy,  who  came  and  opened 
the  door  pretty  suddent.  She  seized  me  by  the  few 
lonely  hairs  that  still  linger  sadly  upon  my  bare- 
footed hed,  and  dragged  me  out  of  the  closet,  inci- 
dentally obsarving  that  she  didn't  exactly  see  why 
she  should  be  compelled,  at  her  advanced  stage  of 
life,  to  open  a  assylum  for  sooperanooated  idiots. 

My  wife  is  one  of  the  best  wimin  on  this  continent, 
altho'  she  isn't  always  gentle  as  a  lamb,  with  mint 
sauce.    No,  not  always. 


But  to  return  to  the  war  meetin'.  It  was  largely 
attended.  The  Editor  of  the  Bugle  arose  and  got 
up  and  said  the  fact  could  no  longer  be  disguised 
that  we  were  involved  in  a  war.  "  Human  gore," 
said  he,  "is  flowin'.  All  able-bodied  men  should 
seize  a  musket  and  march  to  the  tented  field.  I  re- 
peat  it,  sir,  to  the  tented  field." 

A  voice — "  Why  don't  you  go  yourself,  you  old 
blowhard?" 

"  I  am  identified,  young  man,  with  a  Arkymedian 
leaver  which  moves  the  world,"  said  the  Editor,  wip- 


Artemus  is  Introduced  by  his  daughter,  to  a  distinguished  landscape  painter,  who 
VrT«  lonjf  hair  and  a  wild  expression  in  his  ^e.    Seepage  16. 


A  WAR  MEETING.  17 

ing  his  auburn  brow  with  his  left  coat-tail :  "  I  al- 
lude, young  man,  to  the  press.  Terms,  two  dollars 
a  year,  invariably  in  advance.  Job  printing  exe- 
cuted with  neatness  and  dispatch  !"  And  with  this 
brilliant  bust  of  elekance  the  editor  introduced  Mr.  J 
Brutus  Hinkins,  who  is  sufferin'  from  an  attack  of 
College  in  a  naberin'  place.  Mr.  Hinkins  said  Wash- 
ington was  not  safe.  Who  can  save  our  national 
capeetle  ? 

"  Dan  Setchbll,"  I  said.  "  He  can  do  it  after- 
noons. Let  him  plant  his  light  and  airy  form  onto 
the  Long  Bridge,  make  faces  at  the  hirelin'  foe,  and 
they'll  skedaddle !     Old  Setch  can  do  it." 

"  I  call  the  ^KTapoleon  of  Showmen,"  said  the  Edi- 
tor of  the  Bugle — "I  call  that  Napoleonic  man, 
whose  life  is  adorned  with  so  many  noble  virtues, 
and  whose  giant  mind  lights  up  this  warlike  scene — 
I  call  him  to  order." 

I  will  remark,  in  this  connection,  that  the  editor  of 
the  Bugle  does  my  job  printing. 

"  You,"  said  Mr.  Hinkins,  "  who  live  away  from 
the  busy  haunts  of  men  do  not  comprehend  the 
magnitood  of  the  crisis.    The  busy  haunts  of  men 


18  A  WAR  MEETING. 

is  where  people  comprehend  this  crisis.  We  who 
live  in  the  busy  haunts  of  men — that  is  to  say,  we 
dwell,  as  it  were,  in  the  busy  haunts  of  men." 

"  I  really  trust  that  the  gent'Pman  will  not  fail  to 
say  suthin'  about  the  busy  haunts  of  men,  before  he 
sits  down,"  said  I. 

"  I  claim  the  right  to  express  my  sentiments  here, 
said  Mr.  Hinldns,  in  a  slightly  indignant  tone,  "  and 
I  shall  brook  no  interruption,  if  I  am  a  Softmore." 

"  You  couldn't  be  more  soft,  my  young  friend,"  I 
observed,  .whereupon  there  was  cries  of  "  Order ! 
order  1" 

"  I  regret  I  can't  mingle  in  this  strife  personally," 
said  the  yoxmg  man. 

"  You  might  inlist  as  a  liberty-pole,"  said  I  in  a 
silvery  whisper. 

"  But,"  he  added,  "  I  have  a  voice,  and  that  voice 
is  for  war."  The  young  man  then  closed  his  speech 
with  some  strikin'  and  original  remarks  in  relation 
to  the  star-spangled  banner.  He. was  followed  by 
the  village  minister,  a  very  worthy  man  indeed,  but 
whose  sermons  have  a  tendency  to  make  people  sleep 
pretty  industriously. 


A  WAR  MEETING.  19 

"  I  am  willin'  to  inlist  for  one,"  he  said. 

"  What's  your  weight,  parson  ?"  I  asked. 

"  A  hundred  and  sixty  pounds,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  you  can  inlist  as  a  hundred  and  sixty 
pounds  of  morphine,  your  dooty  bein'  to  stand  in 
the  hospitals  arter  a  battle,  and  preach  while  the 
surgical  operations  is  bein'  performed !  Think  how 
much  you'd  save  the  Gov'ment  in  morphine." 

He  didn't  seem  to  see  it ;  but  he  made  a  good 
speech,  and  the  editor  of  the  Bugle  rose  to  read  the 
resolutions,  commencin'  as  follers : 

Hesolved,  That  we  view  with  anxiety  the  fact  that 
there  is  now  a  war  goin'  on,  and 

Hesolved,  That  we  believe  Stonewall  Jackson 
sympathizes  with  the  secession  movement,  and  that 
we  hope  the  nine-months  men — 

At  this  point  he  was  interrupted  by  the  sounds  of 
silvery  footsteps  on  the  stairs,  and  a  party  of  wimin, 
carryin'  guns  and  led  by  Betsy  Jane,  who  bran- 
dish'd  a  loud  and  rattlin'  umbereller,  burst  into  the 
room. 

"  Here,"  cried  I,  "  are  some  nine-months  wimin !" 

"  Mrs.  Ward,"  said  the  editor  of  the  Bugle— 


20  A  WAR  MEETING. 

"  Mrs.  Ward,  and  ladies,  what  means  this  extr'ord- 
'n'ry  demonstration  ?" 

"  It  means,"  said  that  remarkable  female,  "  that 
you  men  air  makin'  fools  of  yourselves.  You  air 
willin'  to  talk  and  urge  others  to  go  to  the  wars,  but 
you  don't  go  to  the  wars  yourselves.  War  meetings 
is  very  nice  in  their  way,  but  they  don't  keep  Stone- 
wall Jackson  from  comin'  over  to  Maryland  and 
helpin'  himself  to  the  fattest  beef  critters.  What 
we  want  is  more  cider  and  less  talk.  We  want  you 
able-bodied  men  to  stop  speechifying,  which  don't 
'mount  to  the  wiggle  of  a  sick  cat's  tail,  and  go  to 
fi'tin';  otherwise  you  can  stay  to  home  and  take 
keer  of  the  children,  while  we  wimin  will  go  to  the 
wars  1" 

"  Gentl'men,"  said  I,  "  that's  my  wife !  Go  in,  old 
gal !"  and  I  throw'd  up  my  ancient  white  hat  in  per- 
feck  rapters. 

"  Is  this  roll-book  to  be  filled  up  with  the  names 
of  men  or  wimin'  ?"  she  cried. 

"With  men — with  men!"  and  our  quoty  was 
made  up  that  very  night. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  gas  about  these  war 


A  WAR  MEETING.  21 

meetin's.  A  war  meetin',  in  fact,  without  gas, 
would  be  suthin'  like  the  play  of  Hamlet  with  the 
part  of  Othello  omitted. 

Still  believin'  that  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  is  about 
as  well  sot  up  with  as  any  young  lady  in  distress 
could  expect  to  be,  I  am 

Tours  more'n  anybody  else's, 

A.  Ward. 


IL 

THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE. 

If  I'm  drafted  I  shall  resign. 

Deeply  grateful  for  the  onexpected  honor  thus 
confered  upon  me,  I  shall  feel  compeld  to  resign  the 
position  in  favor  of  sum  more  worthy  person.  Mo- 
desty is  what  ails  me.  That's  what's  kept  me 
under. 

I  meanter-say,  I  shall  hav  to  resign  if  I'm  draft- 
ed every wheres  I've  bin  inrold.  I  must  now,  furrin- 
stuns,  be  inrold  in  upards  of  200  different  towns. 
If  I'd  kept  on  travelin'  I  should  hav  eventooaly  be- 
cum  a  Brigade,  in  which  case  I  could  have  held  a 
meetin'  and  elected  myself  Brigadeer-ginral  quite 
xmanimiss.  I  hadn't  no  idea  there  was  so  many  of 
me  before.  But,  serisly,  I  concluded  to  stop  exhi- 
bitin',  and  made  tracks  for  Baldinsville. 

My  only  daughter  threw  herself  onto  my  boosum, 
and  said,  "  It  is  me,  fayther !     I  thank  the  gods  1" 

She  reads  the  Ledger, 


THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE.  23 

"  Tip  US  yer  bunch  of  fives,  old  faker !"  said  Ab- 
TEMTJS,  Jr.    He  reads  the  Clipper. 

My  wife  was  to  the  sowin'  circle.  I  knew  she 
and  the  wimin  folks  was  havin'  a  pleasant  time  slan- 
derin'  the  females  of  the  other  sowin'  circle  (which 
Kkewise  met  that  arternoon,  and  was  doubtless  en- 
joyin'  their  selves  ekally  well  in  slanderin'  the  fust- 
named  circle),  and  I  didn't  send  for  her.  I  alius  like 
to  see  people  enjoy  theirselves. 

My  son  Orgustus  was  playin'  onto  a  floot. 

Obgtjstus  is  a  ethereal  cuss.  The  twins  was  bUd- 
in'  cob-houses  in  a  corner  of  the  kitchin'. 

It'll  cost  some  postage-stamps  to  raise  this  fam'ly, . 
and  yet  it  'ud  go  hard  with  the  old  man  to  lose  any 
lamb  of  the  flock. 

An  old  bachelor  is  a  poor  critter.  He  may  have 
hearn  the  skylark  or  (what's  nearly  the  same  thing) 
Miss  Kellogg  and  Carlottt  Patti  sing ;  he  may 
have  hearn  Ole  Bull  fiddle,  and  all  the  Dod- 
WORTHS  toot,  an'  yet  he  don't  know  nothin'  about 
music — the  real,  ginuine  thing — ^the  music  of  the 
laughter  of  happy,  well-fed  children !  And  you  may 
ax  the  father  of  sich  children  home  to  dinner,  feelin' 


24  THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE. 

werry  sure  there'll  be  no  spoons  missin'  when  he 
goes  away.  Sich  fathers  never  drop  tin  five-cent 
pieces  into  the  contribution  box,  nor  pahn  shoe-pegs 
oflf  onto  blind  bosses  for  oats,  nor  skedaddle  to 
British  sile  when  their  country's  in  danger — ^nor  do 
anything  which  is  really  mean,  I  don't  mean  to 
intimate  that  the  old  bachelor  is  up  to  little  games 
of  this  sort — ^not  at  all — but  I  repeat,  he's  a  poor 
critter.  .He  don't  live  here ;  only  stays.  He  ought 
to  'pologize,  on  behalf  of  his  parients,  for  beiu'  here 
at  all.  The  happy  marrid  man  dies  in  good  stile  at 
home,  surrounded  by  his  weeping  wife  and  children. 
The  old  bachelor  don't  die  at  all — he  sort  of  rots 
away,  like  a  pollywog's  tail. 


My  townsmen  were  sort  o'  demoralized.  There 
was  a  evident  desine  to  ewade  the  Draft,  as  I 
obsarved  with  sorrer,  and  patritism  was  below  Par 
— and  JIfar,  too.  [A  jew  desprit.]  I  hadn't  no 
sooner  sot  down  on  the  piazzy  of  the  tavoun  than  I 
saw  sixteen  solitary  hossmen,  ridin'  four  abreast, 
wendin'  their  way  up  the  street. 

«  What's  them  ?    Is  it  calvary?" 


THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE.  25 

"That,"  said  the  landlord^  "is  the  stage.  Six- 
teen able-bodied  citizens  has  lately  bo't  the  stage 
line  'tween  here  and  Scotsburg.  That's  them. 
They're  stage-drivers.     Stage-drivers  is  exempt !" 

I  saw  that  each  stage-driver  carried  a  letter  in  his 
left  hand. 

"The  mail  is  hevy,  to-day,"  said  the  landlord. 
"Gin'rally  they  don't  have  more'n  half  a  dozen 
letters  'tween  'em.  To-day  they've  got  one  apiece  ! 
Bile  my  lights  and  liver !" 

"  And  the  passengers  ?" 

"There  ain't  any,  skacely,  now-days,"  said  the 
landlord,  "  and  what  few  there  is,  very  much  prefier 
to  walk,  the  roads  is  so  rough." 

"  And  how  ist  with  you  ?"  I  inquired  of  the  edi- 
tor of  the  Bugle-Horn  of  Liberty^  who  sot  near  me. 

"  I  can't  go,"  he  sed,  shakin'  his  head  in  a  wise 
way.  "  Ordinarily  I  should  delight  to  wade  in  gore, 
but  my  bleedin'  country  bids  me  stay  at  home.  It 
is  imperatively  necessary  that  I  remain  here  for  the 
purpuss  of  announcin'  from  week  to  week,  that  owr 
Gov*ment  is  about  to  take  vigorous  measures  to  put 
dovm  the  rebellion  I " 


\ 
\ 


26  THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE. 

I  Strolled  into  the  village  oyster-saloon,  where  I 
found  Dr.  Schwazey,  a  leadin'  citizen,  in  a  state  of 
mind  which  showed  that  he'd  bin  histin'  in  more'n 
his  share  of  pizen. 

"  Hello,  old  Beeswax,"  he  bellered ;  "  How's  yer 
grandmams  ?  When  you  goin'  to  feed  your  stuffed 
animils  ?  " 

"  What's  the  matter  with  the  eminent  physician  ?" 
I  pleasantly  inquired. 

"  This,"  he  said ;  "  this  is  what's  the  matter.  I'm 
a  habitooal  drunkard !     I'm  exempt !" 

"Jes'  so." 

"  Do  you  see  them  beans,  old  man  ?"  and  he  pinted 
to  a  plate  before  him.     "  Do  you  see  'em  ?" 

"I  do.  They  are  a  cheerful  fruit  when  used 
tempritly." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  hain't  eat  anything  since  last 
week.  I  eat  beans  now  because  I  eat  beans  tJien.  I 
never  mix  my  vittles !" 

"  It's  quite  proper  you  should  eat  a  little  suthin' 
once  in  a  while,"  I  said.  "  It's  a  good  idee  to  occa- 
sionally instruct  the  stummick  that  it  mustn't  depend 
excloosively  on  licker  for  its  sustainance." 


THE   DRAFT  IN   BALDINSVILLE.  27 

"  A  blessin',"  he  cried ;  "  a  blessin'  onto  the  hed  of 
the  man  what  inwented  beans.  A  blessin'  onto  his 
hed!" 

"  Which  his  name  is  GiLSOif !  He's  a  first  family 
of  Bostin,"  said  I. 


This  is  a  speciraent  of  how  things  was  goin'  in  my 
place  of  residence. 

A  few  was  true  blue.  The  schoolmaster  was 
among  'em.  He  greeted  me  warmly.  He  said  I 
was  welkim  to  those  shores.  He  said  I  had  a  mas- 
siv  mind.  It  was  gratifyin',  he  said,  to  see  that 
great  intelleck  stalkin'  in  their  midst  onct  more.  I 
have  before  had  occasion  to  notice  this  schoolmaster. 
He  is  evidently  a  young  man  of  far  more  than  ordi- 
nary talents. 

The  schoolmaster  proposed  we  should  git  up  a 
mass  meetin'.  The  meetin'  was  largely  attended. 
We  held  it  in  the  open  air,  round  a  roarin'  bonfire. 

The  schoolmaster  was  the  first  orator.  He's 
pretty  good  on  the  speak.  He  also  writes  well,  his 
composition  bein'  seldom  marred  by  ingrammatti- 
cisms.   He  said  this  inactivity  surprised  him.    "What 


28  THE  DRAFT  IN   BALDINSVILLE. 

do  you  expect  will  come  of  this  kind  of  doin's? 
Nihil  fit ' 

"Hooray  for  Nihil!"  I  interrupted.  "Fellow- 
citizens,  let's  giv  three  cheers  for  Nihil,  the  man 
who  fit!" 

The  schoolmaster  turned  a  little  red,  but  repeated 
—''mhilfitr 

"Exactly,"  I  said.  " Nihil  ^^.  He  wasn't  a 
strategy  feller." 

"Our  venerable  friend,"  said  the  schoolmaster, 
smilin'  pleasantly,  "  isn't  posted  in  Virgil." 

"  No,  I  don't  know  him.  But  if  he's  a  able-bodied 
man  he  must  stand  his  little  draft." 

The  schoolmaster  woimd  up  in  eloquent  style,  and 
the  subscriber  took  the  stand. 

I  said  the  crisis  had  not  only  cum  itself,  but  it  had 
brought  all  its  relations.  It  has  cum,  I  said,  with  a 
evident  intention  of  makin'  us  a  good  long  visit.  It's 
goin'  to  take  off  its  things  and  stop  with  us.  My 
wife  says  so  too.  This  is  a  good  war.  For  those 
who  like  this  war,  it's  just  such  a  kind  of  war  as 
they  like.  I'll  bet  ye.  My  wife  says  so  too.  If  the 
Federal  army  succeeds  in  takin'  Washington,  and 


THE   DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE.  29 

they  seem  to  be  advancin'  that  way  pretty  often,  I 
shall  say  it  is  strategy,  and  Washington  will  be  safe. 
And  that  noble  banner,  as  it  were — that  banner,  as 
it  were — will  be  a  emblem,  or  rather,  I  should  say, 
that  noble  banner — as  it  were.  My  wife  says  so  too. 
[I  got  a  little  mixed  up  here,  but  tkey  didn't  notice 
it.  Keep  mum-]  Feller  citizens,  it  will  be  a  proud 
day  for  this  Republic  when  Washington  is  safe. 
My  wife  says  so  too. 

The  editor  of  the  Bugle-Horn  of  Liberty  here 
arose  and  said:  "I  do  not  wish  to  interrupt  the 
gentleman,  but  a  important  despatch  has  just  bin 
received  at  the  telegraph  office  here.  I  will  read  it. 
It  is  as  follows :  Gov'ment  is  about  to  take  vigorous 
measures  to  put  down  the  rebellion  P^  [Lcfud  ap- 
plause.] 

That,  said  I,  is  cheering.  That's  soothing.  And 
Washington  will  be  safe.  [Sensation.]  Philadelphia 
is  safe.  Gen.  Patterson's  in  Philadelphia.  But 
my  heart  bleeds  partic'ly  for  Washington.  My  wife 
says  so  too. 

There's  money  enough.  INo  trouble  about  money. 
They've  got  a  lot  of  first-class  bank-note  engravers 


30  THE   DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE. 

at  Washington  (which  place,  I  regret  to  say,  is  by 
no  means  safe)  who  turn  out  two  or  three  cords  of 
money  a  day — good  money,  too.  Goes  well.  These 
bank-note  engravers  made  good  wages.  I  expect 
they  lay  up  property.  They  are  full  of  Union  senti- 
ment. There  is  considerable  Union  sentiment  in 
Virginny,  more  specially  among  the  honest  farmers 
of  the  Shenandoah  valley.    My  wife  says  so  too. 

Then  it  isn't  money  we  want.  But  we  do  want 
men^  and  we  must  have  them.  We  must  carry  a 
whirlwind  of  fire  among  the  foe.  We  must  crush 
the  ungrateful  rebels  who  are  poundin'  the  Goddess 
of  Liberty  over  the  head  with  slung-shots,  and 
stabbin'  her  with  stolen  knives !  We  must  lick  'em 
quick.  We  must  introduce  a  large  number  of  first- 
class  funerals  among  the  people  of  the  South.  Bet- 
sy says  so,  too. 

This  war  hain't  been  too  well  managed.  We  all 
know  that.  What  then  ?  We  are  all  in  the  same 
boat — ^if  the  boat  goes  down,  we  go  down  with  her. 
Hence  we  must  all  fight.  It  ain't  no  use  to  talk  now 
about  who  caicsed  the  war.  That's  played  out. 
The  war  is  upon  us — upon  us  all — and  we  must  aU 


THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE.  31 

fight.  We  can't  "  reason  "  the  matter  with  the  foe. 
When,  m  the  broad  glare  of  the  noonday  sun,  a 
speckled  jackass  boldly  and  maliciously  kicks  over  a 
peanut-stand,  do  we  "  reason  "  with  him  ?  I  guess 
not.  And  why  "  reason "  with  those  other  South- 
ern people  who  are  tryin'  to  kick  over  the  Republic  ? 
Betsy,  my  wife,  says  so  too. 

The   meetin'   broke   up  with   enthusiasm.      We 
shan't  draft  in  Baldinsville  if  we  can  help  it. 


m. 

THINGS  IN  NEW  YORK. 

The  stoodent  and  connyseer  must  have  noticed  and 
admired  in  varis  parts  of  the  United  States  of  Ame- 
rica, large  yeller  hanbills,  which  not  only  air  gems 
of  art  in  theirselves,  but  they  troothfully  sit  forth 
the  attractions  of  my  show — a  show,  let  me  here 
obsarve,  that  contains  many  livin'  wild  animils, 
every  one  of  which  has  got  a  Beautiful  Moral. 

Them  hanbils  is  sculpt  in  New  York. 

&  I  annoolly  repair  here  to  git  some  more  on 
'um; 

&,  bein'  here,  I  tho't  I'd  issoo  a  Address  to  the 
public  on  matters  and  things. 

Since  last  I  meyandered  these  streets,  I  have  bin 
all  over  the  Pacific  Slopes  and  Utah.  I  cum  back 
now,  with  my  virtoo  unimpared,  but  IVe  got  to  git 
som^  new  clothes. 

Many  changes  has  taken  place,  even  durin'  my 
short  absence,  &  sum  on  um  is  Solium  to  contem- 


THINGS  IN  NEW  YORK.  S3 

pulate.  The  house  in  Varick  street,  where  I  used  to 
Board,  is  bein'  torn  down.  That  house,  which  was 
rendered  memoriable  by  my  livin'  into  it,  is  "  parsin' 
away !  parsin'  away !"  But  some  of  the  timbers 
will  be  made  into  canes,  which  will  be  sold  to  my 
admirers  at  the  low  price  of  one  dollar  ea<5h.  Thus 
is  changes  goin'  on  continerly;  In  the  New  World 
it  is  war — in  the  Old  World  Empires  is  totterin'  Ss 
Dysentaries  is  crumblin'.  These  canes  is  cheap  at  a 
dollar. 

Sammy  Booth,  Duane  street,  sculps  my  hanbills, 
&  he's  a  artist.  He  studid  in  Rome — State  of  New 
York. 

I'm  here  to  read  the  proof-sheets  of  my  hanbils  as 
fast  as  they're  sculpt.  You  have  to  watch  these  ere 
printers  pretty  close,  for  they're  jest  as  apt  to  spel 
a  wurd  rong  as  anyhow. 

But  I  have  time  to  look  round  sum  &  how  do  I 

find  thiugs  ?    I  return  to  the  Atlantic  States  after  a 

absence  of  ten  months,  <fc  what  State  do  I  find  the 

country  in  ?    Why  I  don't  know  what  State  I  find 

it  in.    Suffice  it  to  say,  that  I  do  not  find  it  in  the 

State  of  New  Jersey. 

2* 


84  THINGS  IN  NEW  YORK. 

I  find  sum  things  that  is  cheerin',  partic'ly  the  re- 
solve on  the  part  of  the  wimin  of  America  to  stop 
wearin'  furrin  goods. 

I  never  meddle  with  my  wife's  things.  She  may 
wear  muslin  from  Greenland's  icy  mountins,  and 
bombazeen  from  Injy's  coral  strands,  if  she  wants 
to ;  but  I'm  glad  to  state  that  that  superior  woman 
has  peeled  off  all  her  furrin  clothes  and  jumpt  into 
fabrics  of  domestic  manufactur. 

But,  says  sum  folks,  if  you  stop  importin'  things 
you  stop  the  revenoo.  That's  all  right.  We  can 
stand  it  if  the  Revenoo  can.  On  the  same  principle 
young  men  should  continer  to  get  drunk  on  French 
brandy  and  to  smoke  their  livers  ^s  dry  as  a  coi-n- 
cob  with  Cuby  cigars  because  4-sooth  if  they  don't, 
it  will  hurt  the  Revenoo  !  This  talk  'bout  the  Rev- 
enoo is  of  the  bosh,  boshy.  One  thing  is  tol'bly 
certin — if  we  don't  send  gold  out  of  the  country  we 
shall  have  the  consolation  of  knowing  that  it  is  in 
the  country.  So  I  say  great  credit  is  doo  the  wimin 
for  this  patriotic  move — and  to  tell  the  trooth,  the 
wimin  genrally  know  what  they're  'bout.  Of  all 
the  blessins  they're  the  soothinist.    If  there'd  never 


THINGS  IN  NEW  YORK.  35 

bin  any  wimin,  where  would  my  children  be  to- 
day?    • 

But  I  hope  this  move  will  lead  to  other  moves 
that  air  just  as  much  needed,  one  of  which  is  a 
genral  and  therrer  curtainment  of  expenses-all  round. 
The  fact  is  we  air  gettin'  ter'bly  extravagant,  & 
onless  we  paws  in  our  mad  career  in  less  than  two 
years  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  will  be  seen  dodgin' 
into  a  Pawn  Broker's  shop  with  the  other  gown 
done  up  in  a  bundle,  even  if  she  don't  have  to  Spout 
the  gold  stars  in  her  head-band.  Let  us  all  take 
hold  jintly,  and  live  and  dress  centsibly,  like  our 
forefathers,  who  know'd  moren  we  do,  if  they  warnt 
quite  so  honest !     (Suttle  goaketh.) 

There  air  other  cheerin'  signs.  "We  don't,  for 
instuns,  lack  great  Gen'rals,  and  we  certinly  don't 
lack  brave  sqjers — ^but  there's  one  thing  I  wish  we 
did  lack,  and  that  is  our  present  Congress. 

I  venture  to  say  that  if  you  sarch  the  earth  all 
over  with  a  ten-hoss  power  mikriscope,  you  won't 
be  able  to  find  such  another  pack  of  poppycock 
gabblers  as  the  present  Congress  of  the  United 
States  of  America. 


36  THINGS  IN   NEW  YORK. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Senit  &  of  the  House,  you've 
sot  there  and  draw'd  your  pay  and  made  summer- 
complaint  speeches  long  enuff.  The  country  at  large, 
incloodin'  the  undersined,  is  disgusted  with  you. 
Why  don't  you  show  us  a  statesman — sumhody  who 
can  make  a  speech  that  will  hit  the  pop'lar  hart 
right  under  the  Great  Public  weskit  ?  Why  don't 
you  show  us  a  statesman  who  can  rise  up  to  the 
Emergency,  and  cave  in  the  Emergency's  head? 

Congress,  you  won't  do.  Go  home,  you  mizzer- 
able  devils — go  home  I 

At  a  special  Congressional  'lection  in  my  district 
the  other  day  I  delib'ritly  voted  for  Henry  Clay. 
I  admit  that  Henry  is  dead,  but  inasmuch  as  we 
don't  seem  to  have  a  live  statesman  in  our  National 
Congress,  let  us  by  all  means  have  a  first-class 
corpse. 

Them  who  think  that  a  cane  made  from  the  tim- 
bers of  the  house  I  once  boarded  in  is  essenshal  to 
their  happiness,  should  not  delay  about  sendin'  the 
money  right  on  for  one. 

And  now,  with  a  genuine  hurrar  for  the  wimin 
who  air  goin'  to  abandin  fiirrin  goods,  and  another 


THINGS  IN  NEW   YORK.  37 

for  the  patriotic  everywheres,  I'll  leave  public  mat- 
ters and  indulge  in  a  little  pleasant  family-gossip. 

My  reported  captur  by  the  North  American  savi- 
jis  of  Utah,  led  ray  wide  circle  of  friends  and 
creditors  to  think  that  I  had  bid  adoo  to  earthly 
things  and  was  a  angel  playin'  on  a  golden  harp. 
Hents  my  rival  home  was  onexpected. 

It  was  11,  p.  M.,  when  I  reached  my  homestid  and 
knockt  a  healthy  knock  on  the  door  thereof. 

A  nightcap  thrusted  itself  out  of  the  front  cham- 
ber winder.  (It  was, my  Betsy's  nightcap.)  And  a 
voice  said: 

"Who  is  it?" 

"  It  is  a  Man  !"  I  answered,  in  a  gruff  vols. 

"I  don't  b'lieve  it!"  she  sed. 

"  Then  come  down  and  search  me,"  I  replied. 

Then  resumin'  my  nat'ral  voice,  I  said,  "  It  is  your 
own  A.  W.,  Betsy  !  Sweet  lady,  wake  !  Ever  of 
thou!" 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "it's  you,  is  it?  I  thought  I 
smelt  something." 

But  the  old  girl  was  glad  to  see  me. 

In  the  mornin'  I  found  that  my  family  were  enter- 


38  THINGS  IN  NKW  YORK. 

tainin'  a  artist  from  Philadelphy,  who  was  there  pain- 
tin'  some  startlin'  water-falls  and  mountins,  and  I 
morin  suspected  he  had  a  hankerin'  for  my  oldest 
dauter. 

"  Mr.  Skimmerhom,  father,"  sed  my  dauter. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Sir !"  I  replied  in  a  hospittle 
vois.     "  Glad  to  see  you." 

"  He  is  an  artist,  father,"  sed  my  child. 

"  A  whichist  ?" 

"  An  artist.    A  painter." 

"  And  glazier,"  I  askt.  "  Air  you  a  painter  and 
glazier,  sir  ?" 

My  dauter  and  wife  was  mad,  but  I  couldn't  help 
it,  I  felt  in  a  comikil  mood. 

"  It  is  a  wonder  to  me,  Sir,"  said  the  artist, '"  con- 
siderin'  what  a  wide-spread  reputation  you  have, 
that  some  of  our  Eastern  managers  don't  secure 
you." 

"  It's  a  wonder  to  me,"  said  I  to  my  wife,  "  that 
somebody  don't  secure  him  with  a  chain." 

After  breakfast  I  went  over  to  town  to  see  my 
old  friends.  The  editor  of  the  Bugle  greeted  me 
cordyully,  and  showed  me  the  foUerin'  article  he'd 


An  olxjeck  who  b&j9  he  wonH  go  to  the  war.    See  page  i 


THINGS  IN  NEW  YORK.  39 

just  written  about  the  paper  on  the  other  side  of 
the  street: 

"  We  have  recently  put  up  in  our  office  an  entirely 
new  sink,  of  unique  construction — with  two  holes 
through  which  the  soiled  water  may  pass  to  the  new 
bucket  underneath.  What  will  the  hell-hounds  of 
The  Advertiser  say  to  this  ?  We  shall  continue  to 
make  improvements  as  fast  as  our  rapidly-increas- 
LQg  business  may  warrant.  Wonder  whether  a 
certain  editor's  wife  thinks  she  can  palm  off  a  brass 
watch-chain  on  this  community  for  a  gold  one  ?" 

"  That,"  says  the  Editor,  "hits  him  whar  he  lives. 
That  will  close  him  up  as  bad  as  it  did  when  I  wrote 
an  article  ridicooling  his  sister,  who's  got  a  cock-eye." 

A  few  days  after  my  return  I  was  shown  a  young 
man,  who  says  he'll  be  Dam  if  he  goes  to  the  war. 
He  was  settin'  on  a  barrel,  &  was  indeed  a  Loath- 
sum  objeck. 

Last  Sunday  I  heard  Parson  Batkins  preach,  and 
the  good  old  man  preached  well,  too,  tho'  his 
prayer  was  ruther  lengthy.  The  Editor  of  the 
Bugle,  who  was  with  me,  said  that  prayer  would 
make  fifteen  squares,  solid  nonparil. 


40  THINGS  IN  NEW  YORK. 

I  don't  think  of  nothin'  more  to  write  about.  So, 
"B'leeve  me  if  all  those  endearing  young  charms," 
&c.,  &c. 

A.  Waed. 


IV. 

IN  CANADA. 

Fm  at  present  existin'  under  a  monikal  form  of 
Gov'ment.  In  other  words  Fm  travelin'  among  the 
crowned  heds  of  Canady.  They  ai'n't  pretty  bad 
people.  On  the  cont'ry,  they  air  exceedin'  good 
people. 

Troo,  they  air  deprived  of  many  blessins.  They 
don't  enjoy,  for  instans,  the  priceless  boon  of  a  war. 
They  haven't  any  American  Egil  to  onchain,  and 
they  hain't  got  a  Fourth  of  July  to  their  backs. 

Altho'  this  is  a  monikal  form  of  Gov'ment,  I  am 
onable  to  perceeve  much  moniky.  I  tried  to  git  a 
piece  in  Toronto,  but  failed  to  succeed. 

Mrs.  ViCTOKiA,  who  is  Queen  of  England,  and  has 
all  the  luxuries  of  the  markets,  incloodin'  game  in 
its  season,  don't  bother  herself  much  about  Canady, 
but  lets  her  do  'bout  as  she's  mighter.  She,  however, 
gin'rally  keeps  her  supplied  with  a  lord,  who's  called 
a  Gov'ner  Gin'ral.     Sometimes  the  politicians  of 


42  IN  CANADA. 

Canady  make  it  lively  for  this  lord — for  Cauady  has 
politicians,  and  I  expect  they  don't  differ  from  our 
politicians,  some  of  em  bein'  gifted  and  talented 
liars,  no  doubt. 

The  present  Gov'ner  Gin'ral  of  Canady  is  Lord 
Monk.  I  saw  him  review  some  volunteers  at  Mon- 
treal. He  was  accompanied  by  some  other  lords 
and  dukes  and  generals  and  those  sort  of  things. 
He  rode  a  little  bay  horse,  and  his  close  wasn't  any 
better  than  mine.  You'll  always  notiss,  by  the  way, 
that  the  higher  up  in  the  world  a  man  is,  the  less 
good  harness  he  puts  on.  Hence  Gin'ral  Hallbck 
walks  the  streets  in  plain  citizen's  dress,  while  the 
second  lieutenant  of  a  volunteer  regiment  piles  all 
the  brass  things  he  can  find  onto  his  back,  and  drags 
a  forty-pound  sword  after  him. 

Monk  has  been  in  the  lord  bisniss  some  time,  and 
I  understand  it  pays,  tho'  I  don't  know  what  a  lord's 
wages  is.  The  wages  of  sin  is  death  and  postage- 
stamps.    But  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  Monk. 

One  of  Lord  Monk's  daughters  rode  with  him  on 
the  field.  She  has  golden  hair,  a  kind  good  face, 
and  wore  a  red  hat.    I  should  be  very  happy  to  »have 


IN  CANADA.  43 

her  pay  me  and  my  family  a  visit  at  Baldinsville. 
Come  and  bring  yom*  knittin',  Miss  Monk.  Mrs. 
Waed  will  do  the  fair  thing  by  you.  She  makes 
the  best  slap-jacks  in  America.  As  a  slap-jackist, 
she  has  no  ekal.     She  wears  the  Belt. 

What  the  review  was  all  about,  I  don't  know.  I 
haven't  a  gigantic  intelleck,  which  can  grasp  great 
questions  at  onct.  I  am  not  a  Wjebster  or  a  Setmoue. 
I  am  not  a  Washington  or  a  Old  Abe.  Fur  from  it. 
I  am  not  as  gifted  a  man  as  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 
Even  the  congregation  of  Plymouth  Meetin'-House 
in  Brooklyn  will  admit  that.  Yes,  I  should  think 
so.  But  while  I  don't  have  the  slitest  idee  as  to 
what  the  review  was  fur,  I  will  state  that  the  sojers 
looked  pooty  scrumptious  in  their  red  and  green 
close. 

Come  with  me,  jentle  reader,  to  Quebeck.  Que- 
beck  was  surveyed  and  laid  out  by  a  gentleman 
who  had  been  afl9icted  with  the  delirium  tremens 
from  childhood,  and  hence  his  idees  of  things  was  a 
little  irreg'ler.  The  streets  don't  lead  anywheres 
in  partic'ler,  but  everywheres  in  gin'ral.  The  city 
is  bilt  on  a  variety  of  perpendicler  hills,  each  hill 


44  IN  CANADA. 

bein'  a  trifle  wuss  nor  t'other  one.  Quebeck  is  full 
of  stone  walls,  and  arches,  and  citadels  and  things. 
It  is  said  no  foe  could  ever  git  into  Quebeck,  and  I 
guess  they  couldn't.  And  I  don't  see  what  they'd 
want  to  get  in  there  for. 

Quebeck  has  seen  lively  times  in  a  warlike  way. 
The  French  and  Britishers  had  a  set-to  there  in  1769. 
Jim  Wolfe  commanded  the  latters,  and  Jo.  Mont- 
calm the  formers.  Both  were  hunky  boys,  and  fit 
nobly.  But  Wolfe  was  too  many  measles  for  Mont- 
calm, and  the  French  was  slew'd.  Wolfe  and 
Montcalm  was  both  killed.  In  arter  years  a  com- 
mon monyment  was  erected  by  the  gen'rous  people 
of  Quebeck,  aided  by  a  bully  Earl  named  George 
Dalhousib,  to  these  noble  fellows.  That  was  well 
done. 

Durin'  the  Revolutionary  War  B.  Arnold  made 
his  way,  through  dense  woods  and  thick  snows,  from 
Maine  to  Quebeck,  which  it  was  one  of  the  hunkiest 
things  ever  done  in  the  military  line.  It  would 
have  been  better  if  B.  Arnold's  funeral  had  come 
off  immeditly  on  his  arrival  there. 

On  the  Plains  of  Abraham  there  was  onct  some 


IN  CANADA.  45 

tall  fitin',  and  ever  since  then  there  has  been  a  great 
demand  for  the  bones  of  the  slew'd  on  that  there 
occasion.  But  the  real  ginooine  bones  was  long  ago 
carried  off,  and  now  the  boys  make  a  hansum  thing 
by  cartin'  the  bones  of  bosses  and  sheep  out  there, 
and  sellin'  em  to  intelligent  American  towerists. 
Takin'  a  perfessional  view  of  this  dodge,  I  must  say 
that  it  betrays  genius  of  a  lorfty  character. 

It  reminded  me  of  a  inspired  feet  of  my  own.  I 
used  to  exhibit  a  wax  figger  of  Henry  Wilkins, 
the  Boy  Murderer.  Henry  had,  in  a  moment  of 
inadvertence,  kiUed  his  Uncle  Ephram  and  walked 
off  with  the  old  man's  money.  Well,  this  stattoo 
was  lost  somehow,  and  not  sposin'  it  would  make 
any  particler  difference  I  substitooted  the  full-grown 
stattoo  of  one  of  my  distinguished  piruts  for  the  Boy 
Murderer.  One  night  I  exhibited  to  a  poor  but 
honest  audience  in  the  town  of  Stoneham,  Maine. 
"  This,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  I,  pointing  my 
umbrella  (that  weapon  which  is  indispensable  to 
every  troo  Anierican)  to  the  stattoo,  "  this  is  a  life- 
like wax  figger  of  the  notorious  Henry  Wilkins, 
who  in  the  dead  of  night  murdered  his  Uncle  Ephram 


46  IN  CANADA. 

in  cold  blood.  A  sad  warning  to  all  uncles  havin' 
murderers  for  nephews.  When  a  mere  child  this 
Henky  Wilkins  was  compelled  to  go  to  the  Sunday- 
school.  He  carried  no  Sunday-school  book.  The 
teacher  told  him  to  go  home  and  bring  one.  He 
went  and  returned  with  a  comic  song-book.  A 
depraved  proceedin'." 

"  But,"  says  a  man  in  the  audience,  "  when  you 
was  here  before  your  wax  figger  represented  Henry 
Wilkins  as  a  boy.  Now,  Henry  was  hung,  and 
yet  you  show  him  to  us  now  as  a  full-grown  man ! 
How's  that?" 

"  The  figger  has  growd,  sir — it  has  growd,"  I  said. 

I  was  angry.  If  it  had  been  in  these  times  I  think 
I  should  have  informed  agin  him  as  a  traitor  to  his 
flag,  and  had  him  put  in  Fort  Lafayette. 

I  say  adoo  to  Quebeck  with  regret.  It  is  old 
fogyish,  but  chock  fiill  of  interest.  Young  gentle- 
men of  a  romantic  turn  of  mind,  who  air  botherin' 
their  heads  as  to  how  they  can  spend  their  father's 
money,  had  better  see  Quebeck. 

Altogether  I  like  Canady.  Good  people  and  lots 
of  pretty  girls.    I  wouldn't  mind  comin'  over  here 


IN  CANADA.  47 

to  live  in  the  capacity  of  a  Duke,  provided  a  vacancy 
occurs,  and  provided  further  I  could  be  allowed  a 
few  star-spangled  banners,  a  eagle,  a  boon  of  liberty, 
etc. 

Don't  think  Tve  skedaddled.  N'ot  at  all.  I'm 
coming  home  in  a  week. 

Let's  have  the  Union  restored  as  it  was,  if  we  can ; 
but  if  we  can't,  Pm  in  favor  of  the  Union  as  it 
wasnH.     But  the  Union,  anyhow. 

Gentlemen  of  the  editorial  corpse,  if  you  would 
be  happy  be  virtoous !  I,  who  am  the  emblem  of 
virtoo,  tell  you  so. 

(Signed,)  "  A.  Ward." 


I 
THE  NOBLE  RED  MAN. 

The  red  man  of  the  forest  was  form'ly  a  very  res- 
pectful person.  Justice  to  the  noble  aboorygine 
warrants  me  in  eayin'  that  orrigemerly  he  was  a 
jnajestic  cuss. 

At  the  time  Chris,  arrove  on  these  shores  (I 
allood  to  Chris.  Columbus),  the  savajis  was  virtoous 
and  happy.  They  were  innocent  of  secession,  rum, 
draw-poker,  and  sinfulness  gin'rally.  They  didn't 
discuss  the  slavery  question  as  a  custom.  They  had 
no  Congress,  faro  banks,  delirium  tremens,  or  Asso- 
ciated Press.  Their  habits  was  consequently  good. 
Late  suppers,  dyspepsy,  gas  companies,  thieves,  ward 
politicians,  pretty  waiter-girls,  and  other  metropoli- 
tan refinements,  were  unknown  among  them.  lS[o 
savage  in  good  standing  would  take  postage-stamps. 
You  couldn't  have  bo't  a  coon  skin  with  a  barrel  of 
'em.  The  female  Aboorygine  never  died  of  consump- 
tion, because  she  didn't  tie  her  waist  up  in  whale- 


Lo !  The  poor  Red  man  and  a  "  pretty  waiter  girL"    See  page  48. 


THE  NOBLE  RED   MAN.  49 

bone  thinga;  but  in  loose  and  flowin'  garments  she 
bounded,  with  naked  feet,  over  hills  and  plains  like 
the   wild   and  frisky  antelope.     It  was  a  onlucky 
moment  for  us  when  Chris,  sot  his  foot  onto  these 
'ere  shores.    It  would  have  been  better  for  us  of  the 
present  day  if  the  injins  had  given  him  a  warm  meal 
and  sent  him  home  ore  the  ragin'  billers.    For  the 
savages  owned  the  country,  and  Columbus  was  a  fil- 
libuster.    Coetez,  Pizarbo,  and  Walker  were  one- 
horse  fillibusters— Columbus  was  a  four-horse  team 
fillibuster,  and  a  large  yaller  dog  under  the'waggin. 
I  say,  in  view  of  the  mess  we  are  makin'  of  things, 
it  would  have  been  better  for  us  if  Columbus  had 
staid  to  home.    It  would  have  been  better  for  the 
show    bisniss.     The  circulation  of  Vanity  Fair 
would  be  larger,  and  the  proprietors  would  all  have 
boozum  pins !     Yes,  sir,  and  perhaps  a  ten-pin  alley. 
By  which  I  don't  wish  to  be  understood  as  inti- 
matin'  that  the  scalpin'  wretches  who  are  in  the 
injin  bisniss  at  the  present  day  are  of  any  account, 
or  calculated  to  make  home  happy,  speciall^i''  the 
Sioxes  of  Minnesoty,  who  desarve  to  be  murdered  in 
the  first  degree,  and  if  Pope  will  only  stay  in  St.  Paul 
and  not  go  near  'em  himself^  I  reckon  they  will  be. 


VI. 

THE  SERENADE. 

Things  in  our  town  is  workin'.  The  canal  boat 
"  Lucy  Ann"  called  in  here  the  other  day  and  report- 
ed all  quiet  on  the  Wabash.  The  "  Lucy  Ann"  has 
adopted  a  new  style  of  Binnakle  light,  in  the  shape 
of  a  red-headed  gal  who  sits  up  over  the  compass. 
It  works  well. 

The  artist  I  spoke  about  in  ray.larst  has  returned 
to  Philadelphy.  Before  he  left  I  took  his  lily-white 
hand  in  mine.  I  suggested  to  him  that  if  he  could 
induce  the  citizens  of  Philadelphy  to  believe  it 
would  be  a  good  idea  to  haye  white  winder-shutters 
on  their  houses  and  white  door-l*ones,  he  might 
make  a  fortin.  "  It's  a  novelty,"  I  added,  "  and  may 
startle  'em  at  fust,  but  they  may  conclood  to  adopt 
it." 

•As  several  of  our  public  men  are  constantly  being 
surprised  with  serenades,  I  concluded  I'd  be  sur- 
prised in  the  same  way,  so  I  made  arrangements 


THE    SERENADE.  51 

accordin'.  I  asked  the  Brass  Band  how  much 
they'd  take  to  take  me  entirely  by  surprise  with  a 
serenade.  They  said  they'd  overwhelm  me  with  a  un- 
expected honor  for  seven  dollars,  which  I  excepted, 

I  wrote  out  my  impromtoo  speech  severil  days 
beforehand,  bein'  very  careful  to  expunge  all  ingra- 
matticisms  and  payin'  particler  attention  to  the 
punktooation.  It  was,  if  I  may  say  it  without  egit- 
ism,  a  manly  effort,  but,  alars  !  I  never  delivered  it, 
as  the  sekel  will  show  you.  I  paced  up  and  down 
the  kitcin  speakin'  my  piece  over  so  as  to  be  en- 
tirely perfeck.  My  bloomin'  young  daughter  Sarah 
Ann,  bothered  me  summut  by  singing  "  Why  do 
siunmer  roses  fade  ?" 

"Because,"  said  I,  arter  hearin'  her  sing  it  about 
fourteen  times, "  because  it's  their  biz !  Let  'em  fade." 

"Betsy,"  said  I,  pausin'  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  and  letting  my  eagle  eye  wander  from  the 
manuscrip ;  "  Betsy,  on  the  night  of  this  here  sere- 
nade, I  desires  you  to  appear  at  the  winder  dressed 
in  white,  and  wave  a  lily-white  hankercher.  D'ye 
hear  ?" 

"  If  I  appear,"   said  that  remarkable  female,  "  I 


52  THE  SERENADE. 

shall  wave  a  lily-white  bucket  of  bilin'  hot  water, 
and  somebody  will  be  scalded.  One  bald-heded  old 
fool  will  get  his  share." 

She  refer'd  to  her  husband.  No  doubt  about  it 
in  my  mind.  But  for  fear  she  might  exasperate  me 
I  said  nothin'. 

The  expected  night  cum.  At  9  o'clock  precisely 
there  was  sounds  of  footsteps  in  the  yard,  and  the 
Band  struck  up  a  lively  air,  which  when  they  did 
finish  it,  there  was  cries  of  "  Wabd  !  "Waed  !"  I 
stept  out  onto  the  portico.  A  brief  glance  showed 
me  that  the  assemblage  was  summut  mixed.  There 
was  a  great  many  ragged  boys,  and  there  was 
quite  a  number  of  grown-up  persons  evigently 
under  the  affluence  of  the  intoxicatin'  bole.  The 
Band  was  also  drunk.  Dr.  Schwazey,  who  was 
holdin'  up  a  post,  seemed  to  be  partic'ly  drunk — so 
much  so  that  it  had  got  into  his  spectacles,  which 
were  staggerin'  wildly  over  his  nose.  But  I  was  in 
for  it,  and  I  commenced : 

"  Feller  Citizens :  For  this  onexpected  honor—: — " 
Leader  of  the  Band. — Will  you  give  us  our 
money  now,  or  wait  till  you  git  through  ? 


THE    SERENABE.  53 

To  this  painful  and  disgustin'  interruption  I  paid 
no  attention. 

" for  this  onexpected  honor  I  thank  you." 

Leader  of  the  Band. — But  you  said  you'd  give  us 
seven  dollars  if  we'd  play  two  choons. 

Again  I  didn't  notice  him,  but  resumed  as  follows : 
"  I  say  I  thank  you  warmly.  When  I  look  at  this 
crowd  of  true  Americans,  my  heart  swells " 

Dr.  Schwazey. — So  do  I ! 

A  voice. — ^We  all  do  I 

" my  heart  swells " 

A  voice. — Three  cheers  for  the  swells. 

"  We  live,"  said  I,  "  in  troublous  times,  but  I 
hope  we  shall  again  resume  our  former  proud  posi- 
tion, and  go  on  in  our  glorious  career  !" 

Dr.  Schwazey. -^m  willin'  for  one  to  go  on  in  a 
glorious  career.  Will  you  join  me,  feUow  citizens, 
in  a  glorious  career  ?  What  wages  does  a  man  git 
for  a  glorious  career,  when  he  finds  himself? 

"  Dr.  Schwazey,"  said  I  sternly, "  you  are  drunk. 
You're  disturbin'  the  meetin'." 

Dr.  S. — Have  you  a  banquet  spread  in  the  house  ? 
I  should  like  a  rhynossyross  on  the  half  shell,  or 


64  THE  SERENADE. 

a  hippopotamus  on  toast,  or  a  horse  and  wagon 
roasted  whole.  Anything  that's  handy.  Don't  put 
yourself  out  on  my  account. 

At  this  pint  the  Band  begun  to  make  hidyous 
noises  with  their  brass  horns,  and  a  exceedingly  rag- 
ged boy  wanted  to  know  if  there  wasn't  to  be  some 
wittles  afore  the  concern  broke  up  ?  I  didn't  exact- 
ly know  what  to  do,  and  was  just  on  the  pint  of 
doin'  it,  when  a  upper  winder  suddenly  opened  and 
a  stream  of  hot  water  was  bro't  to  bear  on  the  dis- 
orderly crowd,  who  took  the  hint  and  retired  at 
once. 

When  I  am  taken  by  surprise  with  another  sere- 
nade, I  shall,  among  other  arrangements,  have  a 
respectful  company  on  hand.  So  no  more  from  me 
to-day.    When  this  you  see,  remember  me. 


vn. 

A  ROMANCE.— WILLIAM  BARKER,  THE  YOUNa 
PATRIOT 

I. 

"  N"o,  William  Barker,  you  cannot  have  my  daugh- 
ter's hand  in  marriage  until  you  are  her  equal  in 
wealth  and  social  position." 

The  speaker  was  a  haughty  old  man  of  some  sixty 
years,  and  the  person  whom  he  addressed  was  a  fine- 
looking  young  man  of  twenty-five. 

With  a  sad  aspect  the  young  man  withdrew  from 
the  stately  mansion. 

n. 

Six  months  later  the  young  man  stood  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  haughty  old  man. 

"  What !  ywjb  here  again  ?"  angrily  cried  the  old 
man. 

"  Ay,  old  man,"  proudly  exclaimed  William  Bar- 
ker.   "  I  am  here,  your  daughter's  equal  and  yours  ?" 

The  old  man's  lips  curled  with  scorn.    A  derisive 


56  A  ROMANCE. 

smile  lit  up  his  cold  features  ;  when,  casting  violent- 
ly upon  the  marble  centre  table  an  enormous  roll  of 
greenbacks,  William  Barker  cried — 

"See!  Look  on  this  wealth.  And  I've  tenfold 
more !  Listen,  old  man !  You  spumed  me  from  your 
door.  But  I  did  not  despair.  I  secured  a  contract 
for  furnishing  the  Army  of  the with  beef " 

"  Yes,  yes !"  eagerly  exclaimed  the  old  man. 

" and  I  bought  up  all  the  disabled  cavalry 

horses  I  could  find " 


"  I  see !  I  see !"  cried  the  old  man.  "  And  good 
beef  they  make,  too." 

"  They  do  !  they  do !  and  the  profits  are  immense." 

"  I  should  say  so !" 

"  And  now,  sir,  I  claim  your  daughter's  fair  hand !" 

"Boy,  she, is  yours.  But  hold!  Look  me  in  the 
eye.    Throughout  all  this  have  you  been  loyal  ?" 

"  To  the  core !"  cried  William  Barker. 

"And,"  continued  the  old  man,  in  a  voice  husky 
with  emotion,  "  are  you  in  favor  of  a  vigorous  pro- 
secution of  the  war  ?" 

"lam,  lam!" 

"Then,  boy,  take  her!  Maria,  child,  come  hither. 


A  ROMANCE.  57 

Your  William  claims  thee.  Be  happy,  my  children ! 
and  whatever  our  lot  in  life  may  be,  let  us  all  sup- 
port the  Government  /" 

3* 


vm. 

A  ROMANCE.— THE  CONSCRIPT. 

[Which  may  bother  the  reader  a  little  unless  he  is  familiar 
with  the  music  of  the  day.] 

Chapter  I. 
Philander  Reed  struggled  with  spool-thread  and 
tape  in  a  dry-goods  store  at  Ogdensburgh,  on  the 
St.  Lawrence  River,  State  of  New  York.  He  Ral- 
lied Round  the  Flag,  Boys,  and  Hailed  Columbia 
every  time  she  passed  that  way.  One  day  a  regi- 
ment returning  from  the  war  Came  Marching  Along, 
bringing  An  Intelligent  Contraband  with  them,  who 
lefl  the  South  about  the  time  Babylon  was  a-Fallin', 
and  when  it  was  apparent  to  all  well-ordered  minds 
that  the  Kingdom  was  Coming,  accompanied  by  the 
Day  of  Jubiloo.  Philander  left  his  spool-thread  and 
tape,  rushed  into  the  street,  and  by  his  Long-Tail 
Blue,  said, "  Let  me  kiss  him  for  his  Mother."  Then, 
with  patriotic  jocularity,  he  inquired,  "  How  is  your 


A  BOMANCE — THE   CONSCRIPT.  59 

High  Daddy  in  the  Morning?"  to  which  Pomp  of 
Cudjo's  Cave  replied,  "That  poor  Old  Slave  has 
gone  to  rest,  we  ne'er  shall  see  him  more !  But  U. 
S.  G.  is  the  man  for  me,  or  Any  Other  Man."  Then 
he  Walked  Romid. 

"And  your  Master,"  said  Philander,  "where  is 
he?" 

"  Massa's  in  the  cold,  cold  ground — at  least  I  hope 
so !"  said  the  gay  contraband. 

"  March  on,  March  on  I  all  hearts  rejoice !"  cried 
the  Colonel,  who  was  mounted  on  a  Bob-tailed  nag 
— on  which,  in  times  of  Peace,  my  soul,  O  Peace !  he 
had  betted  his  money. 

"Yaw,"  said  a  German  Bold  Sojer  Boy,  "we 
don't- fights-mit-Segel  as  much  as  we  did." 

The  regiment  marched  on,  and  Philander  betook 
himself  to  his  mother's  Cottage  Near  the  Banks  of 
that  Lone  River,  and  rehearsed  the  stirring  speech 
he  was  to  make  that  night  at  a  war  meeting. 

"It's  just  before  the  battle.  Mother,"  he  said, "  and 
I  want  to  say  something  that  will  encourage  Grant." 


60  A  ROMANCE — THE  CONSCRIPT. 

Chaptee  II. — ^Mabel. 

Mabel  Tucker  was  an  orphan.  Her  father,  Dan 
Tucker,  was  run  over  one  day  by  a  train  of  cars, 
though  he  needn't  have  been,  for  the  kind-hearted 
engineer  told  him  to  Git  Out  of  the  Way. 

Mabel  early  manifested  a  marked  inclination  for 
the  millinery  business,  and  at  the  time  we  introduce 
her  to  our  readers  she  was  Chief  Engineer  of  a 
Millinery  Shop  and  Boss  of  a  Sewing  Machine. 

Philander  Reed  loved  Mabel  Tucker,  and  Ever  of 
her  was  Fondly  Dreaming;  and  she  used  to  say, 
"WiU  you  love  me  Then  as  Now!"  to  which  he 
would  answer  that  he  would,  and  without  the  writ- 
ten consent  of  his  parents. 

She  sat  in  the  parlor  of  the  Cot  where  she  was 
Bom,  one  Summer's  eve,  with  pensive  thought,  when 
Somebody  came  Knocking  at  the  Door.  It  was 
Philander.  Fond  'Embrace  and  things.  Thrilling 
emotions.  P.  very  pale  and  shaky  in  the  legs.  Also, 
sweaty. 

"  Where  hast  thou  been  ?"  she  said.  "  Hast  been 
gathering  shells  from  youth  to  age,  and  then  leaving 


The  Editor  of  "  The  Bugle"  is  interrupted  by  Betsey  Jane  and  her  female  waniorg 
See  page  10. 


A  KOMANCE — THE   CONSCRIPT.  61 

them  like  a  che-eild  ?  Why  this  tremors  ?  Why 
these  Sadfulness?" 

"Mabeyuell"  he  cried,  "Mabeyuell  They've 
Drafted  me  into  the  Army !" 

An  Orderly  Seargeant  now  appears  and  says, 
"  Come,  Philander,  let's  be  a  marching ;"  and  he  tore 
her  from  his  embrace  (P's)  and  marched  the  conscript 
to  the  Examining  Surgeon's  office. 

Mabel  fainted  in  two  places.  It  was  worse  than 
Brothers  Fainting  at  the  Door. 

Chapter  in. — ^The  Conscript. 
Philander  Reed  hadn't  three  hundred  dollars, 
being  a  dead-broken  Reed,  so  he  must  either  become 
one  of  the  noble  Band  who  are  Coming,  Father  Abra- 
ham, three  hundred  thousand  more,  or  skeddadle 
across  the  St.  Lawrence  River  to  the  Canada  Line. 
As  his  opinions  had  recently  undergone  a  radical 
change,  he  chose  the  latter  course,  and  was  soon 
Afloat,  afloat,  on  the  swift-rolling  tide.  "  Row,  bro- 
thers, row,"  he  cried,  "the  stream  runs  fast,  the 
Seargeant  is  near,  and  the  'Zamination's  past,  and  I'm 
a  able-bodied  man." 


I 

62  A  ROMANCE — THE  CONSCRIPT. 

Landing  he  at  once  imprinted  a  conservative  kiss 
on  the  Canada  Line,  and  feelingly  asked  himself, 
"  Who  will  care  for  Mother  now  ?  But  I  propose 
to  stick  it  out  on  this  Line  if  it  takes  all  Summer." 

Chapter  IV. — ^Thb  Meetestg. 

It  was  evening,  it  was.  The  Star  of  the  Evening, 
Beautiful  Star,  shone  brilliantly,  adorning  the  sky 
with  those  Neutral  tints  which  have  characterized 
all  British  skies  ever  since  this  War  broke  out. 

Philander  sat  on  the  Canada  Line,  playing  with 
his  Yardstick,  and  perhaps  about  to  take  the  mea- 
sure of  an  unmade  piece  of  calico ;  when  Mabel,  -with 
a  wild  cry  of  joy,  sprang  from  a  small-boat  to  his 
side.  The  meeting  was  too  much.  They  divided  a 
good  square  faint  between  them  this  time.  At  last 
Philander  found  his  utterance,  and  said,  "Do  they 
think  of  me  at  Home,  do  they  ever  think  of  me  ?" 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  but  they  do  at  the  recruiting 
office." 

"Ha!  'tis  well." 

"  Nay,  dearest,"  Mabel  pleaded,  "  come  home  and 
go  to  the  war  like  a  man !    I  will  take  your  place  in 


A  ROMANCE— THE  CONSCRIPT.  63 

the  Dry  Goods  store.  True,  a  musket  is  a  little 
heavier  than  a  yardstick,  but  isn't  it  a  rather  more 
manly  weapon  ?" 

"  I  don't  see  it,"  was  Philander's  reply ;  "  besides 
this  war  isn't  conducted  accordin'  to  the  Constitution 
and  Union.  When  it  is — when  it  is,  Mabeyuel,  I 
will  return  and  enlist  as  a  Convalescent !" 

"  Then,  sir,"  she  said,  with  much  American  disgust 
in  her  countenance,  "  then,  sir,  farewell !" 

"Farewell!"  he  said,  "and  When  this  Cruel 
War  is  Over,  pray  that  we  may  meet  again !" 

"  Nary-!"  cried  Mabel,  her  eyes  flashing  warm  fire, 
— "  nary !  None  but  the  Brave  deserve  the  Sanitary 
Fair !  A  man  who  will  desert  his  country  in  its  hour 
of  trial  would  drop  Faro  checks  into  the  Contribution 
Box  on  Sunday.  I  hain't  Got  time  to  tarry — I 
hain't  got  time  to  stay ! — but  here's  a  gift  at  part- 
ing: a  White  Feather:  wear  it  into  your  hat!" 
and  She  was  Gone  from  his  gaze^  like  a  beautiful 
dream. 

Stung  with  remorse  and  mosquitoes,  this  miserable 
young  man,  in  a  fit  of  frenzy,  unsheathed  his  glitter- 
ing dry-goods  scissors,  cut  off  four  yards  (good  mea- 


64  A  ROMANCE — THE   CONSCRIPT. 

sure)  of  the  Canada  Line,  and  hanged  himself  on  a 
Willow  Tree.  Bequiescat  in  Tape.  His  stick  drift- 
ed to  My  Country  'tis  of  thee !  and  may  be  seen,  in 
connexion  with  many  others,  on  the  stage  of  any 
New  York  theatre  every  night. 

The  Canadians  won't  have  any  line  pretty  soon. 
The  skedaddlers  will  steal  it.  Then  the  Canadians 
won't  know  whether  they're  in  the  United  States  or 
not,  in  which  case  they  may  be  drafted. 

Mabel  married  a  Brigadier-General,  and  is  happy. 


A  ROMANCE —ONLY  A  MECHANIC.  65 


IX. 

A  ROMANCE.— ONLY  A  MECHANIC. 

In  a  sumptuously  furnished  parlor  in  Fifth  Ave- 
nue, New  York,  sat  a  proud  and  haughty  belle. 
Her  name  was  Isabel  Sawtelle.  Her  father  was  a 
millionnaire,  and  his  ships,  richly  laden,  ploughed 
many  a  sea. 

By  the  side  of  Isabel  Sawtelle,  sat  a  young 
man  with  a  clear,  beautiful  eye,  and  a  massive 
brow. 

"  I  must  go,"  he  said,  "  the  foreman  will  wonder 
at  my  absence." 

"The  foremanT'*  asked  Isabel  in  a  tone  of  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes,  the  foreman  of  the  shop  where  I  work." 

"  Foreman — shop — work!  What !  do  you  work ?" 

"  Aye,  Miss  SawteUe !  I  am  a  cooper !"  and  his 
eyes  flashed  with  honest  pride. 

"What's  that?"  she  asked;  "it  is  something 
about  barrels,  isn't  it !" 


66  A  ROMANCE — ONLY  A  MECHANIC. 

"  It  is  I"  he  said,  with  a  flashing  nostril.  "  And 
hogsheads." 

"Then  go!"  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  disdain — "go 
awa^  /" 

"Ha!"  he  cried,  "you  spurn  me  then,  because  I 
am  a  mechanic.  "Well,  be  it  so !  though  the  time 
will  come,  Isabel  Sawtelle,"  he  added,  and  nothing 
could  exceed  his  looks  at  this  moment — "  when  you 
will  bitterly  remember  the  cooper  you  now  so  cruel- 
ly cast  off !    Farewell  P^ 


Years  rolled  on.  Isabel  Sawtelle  married  a  mise- 
rable aristocrat,  who  recently  died  of  delirium  tre- 
mens. Her  father  failed,  and  is  now  a  raving  maniac, 
and  wants  to  bite  little  children.  All  her  brothers 
(except  one)  were  sent  to  Jhe  penitentiary  for  bur- 
glary, and  her  mother  peddles  clams  that  are  stolen 
for  her  by  little  George,  her  only  son  that  has  his 
freedom.  Isabel's  sister  Bianca  rides  an  immoral 
spotted  horse  in  the  circus,  her  husband  having  long 
since  been  hanged  for  murdering  his  own  uncle  on 
his  mother's  side.  Thus  we  see  that  it  is  always 
best  to  marry  a  mechanic. 


X. 

BOSTON. 
A.  W.  TO  HIS  WrPB. 

Dear  Betsy  :  I  write  you  this  from  Boston,  "the 
Modern  Atkins,"  as  it  is  denomyunated,  altho'  I 
skurcely  know  what  those  air.  I'll  giv  you  a  kur- 
soory  view  of  this  city.  I'll  klassify  the  paragrafs 
under  seprit  headins,  arter  the  stile  of  those  Em- 
blems of  Trooth  and  Poority,  the  Washinton  cor- 
respongdents : 


The  winder  of  my  room  commands  a  exileratin 
view  of  Copps'  Hill,  where  Cotton  Mather,  the 
father  of  the  Reformers  and  sich,  lies  berrid.  There 
is  men  even  now  who  worship  Cotton,  and  there  is 
wimin  who  wear  him  next  their  harts.  But  I  do 
not  weep  for  him.  He's  bin  ded  too  lengthy.  I 
aint  goin  to  be  absurd,  like  old  Mr.  Skillins,  in  our 
naberhood,  who  is  ninety-six  years  of  age,  and  gets 


BOSTON. 


drunk  every  'lection  day,  and  weeps  Bitturly  be- 
cause he  haint  got  no  Parents.  He's  a  nice  Orphan, 
he  is. 


BUNKER  HILL. 

Bunker  Hill  is  over  yonder  in  Charleston.  In 
1116  a  thrillin'  draray  was  acted  out  over  there,  in 
which  the  "  WaiTen  Combination"  played  star  parts. 

MB.  FANUEL. 

Old  Mr.  Fanuel  is  ded,  but  his  Hall  is  still  into 
full  blarst.  This  is  the  Cradle  in  which  the  Goddess 
of  Liberty  was  rocked,  my  Dear.  The  Goddess 
hasn't  bin  very  well  durin'  the  past  few  years,  and 
the  num'ris  quack  doctors  she  called  in  didn't  help 
her  any ;  but  the  old  gal's  physicians  now  are  men 
who  understand  their  bisness.  Major-generally  speak- 
in',  and  I  think  the  day  is  near  when  she'll  be  able 
to  take  her  three  meals  a  day,  and  sleep  nights  as 
comf 'bly  as  in  the  old  time. 

THE  COMMON. 

It  is  here,  as  ushil ;  and  the  low  cuss  who  called 
it  a  Wacant  Lot,  and  wanted  to  know  why  they 


BOSTON.  69 

i 

didn't  ornament  it  with  sum  Bildins',  is  a  onhappy 
Outcast  in  Naponsit. 

THE  LEGISLATUE. 

The  State  House  is  filled  with  Statesmen,  but 
sum  of  'em  wear  queer  hats.  They  buy  'em,  I  take 
it,  of  hatters  who  caiTy  on  hat  stores  down  stairs  in 
Dock  Square,  and  whose  hats  is  either  ten  years 
ahead  of  the  prevalin'  stile,  or  ten  years  behind  it 
—jest  as  a  intellectooal  person  sees  fit  to  think 
about  it.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  talkin'  with  sevril 
members  of  the  legislatur.  I  told  'em  the  Eye  of 
1,000  ages  was  onto  we  American  peple  of  to-day. 
They  seemed  deeply  impressed  by  the  remark,  and 
wantid  to  know  if  I  had  seen  the  Grate  Orgin  ? 

HARVAED  COLLEGE. 

This  celebrated  institootion  of  learnin'  is  plea- 
santly situated  in  the  Bar-room  of  Parker's,  in 
School  street,  and  has  poopils  from  all  over  the 
country. 

I  had  a  letter,  yes'd'y,  by  the  way,  from  our 
mootual  son,  Artemus,  Jr.,  who  is  at  Bowdoin  Col- 


70  BOSTON. 

lege  in  Maine.  He  writes  that  he's  a  Bowdoin  Arab. 
&  is  it  cum  to  this  ?  Is  this  Boy,  as  I  nurtered 
with  a  Parent's  care  into  his  childhood's  hour — is 
he  goin'  to  be  a  Grate  American  humorist  ?  Alars  ! 
I  fear  it  is  too  troo.  Why  didn't  I  bind  him  out  to 
the  Parent  Travellin'  Vegetable  Pill  Man,  as  was 
struck  with  his  appearance  at  our  last  County  Fair, 
&  wanted  him  to  go  with  him  and  be  a  Pillist? 
Ar,  these  Boys — they  little  know  how  the  old  folks 
worrit  about  'em.  But  my  father  he  never  had  no 
occasion  to  worrit  about  me.  You  know,  Betsy, 
that  when  I  fust  commenced  my  career  as  a  moral 
exhibitor  with  a  six-legged  cat  and  a  Bass  drum,  I 
was  only  a  simple  peasant  child — skurce  15  Sum- 
mers had  flow'd  over  my  yoothful  bed.  But  I  had 
sum  mind  of  my  own.  My  father  understood  this. 
"  Go,"  he  said — "  go,  my  son,  and  hog  the  public !" 
(he  ment,  "  knock  em,"  but  the  old  man  was  alius  a 
little  given  to  slang).  He  put  his  withered  han' 
tremblinly  onto  my  bed,  and  went  sadly  into  the 
house.  I  thought  I  saw  tears  tricklin'  down  his 
venerable  chin,  but  it  might  hav'  been  tobacker 
jooce.    He  chaw'd. 


BOSTON.  71 


LITEEATOOR. 


The  Atlantic  Monthly^  Betsy,  is  a  reg'lar  visitor 
to  our  westun  home.  I  like  it  because  it  has  got 
sense.  It  don't  print  stories  with  piruts  and  honist 
young  men  into  'em,  making  the  piruts  splendid 
fellers  and  the  honist  young  men  dis'gree'ble  idiots 
— so  that  our  darters  very  nat'rally  prefer  the 
piruts  to  the  honist  young  idiots ;  but  it  gives  us 
good  square  American  literatoor.  The  chaps  that 
write  for  the  Atlantic^  Betsy,  understand  their  bis- 
ness.  They  can  sling  ink,  they  can.  I  went  in  and 
saw  'em.  I  told  'em  that  theirs  was  a  high  and  holy 
mission.  They  seemed  quite  gi*atified,  and  asked 
me  if  I  had  seen  the  Grate  Orgin. 

I  WHERE  THE  FUST  BLUD  WAS  SPILT. 

I  went  over  to  Lexington  yes'd'y.  My  Boosum 
hove  with  solium  emotions.  "&  this,"  I  said  to 
a  man  who  was  drivin'  a  yoke  of  oxen,  "this  is 
where  our  revolutionary  forefathers  asserted  their 
independence  and  spilt  their  Blud.  Classic  ground  1" 

"  Wall,"  the  man  said,  "  it's  good  for  white  beans 


72  BOSTON. 

and  potatoes,  but  as  regards  raisin'  wheat,  t'ain't 
worth  a  dam.  But  hav'  you  seen  the  Grate  Orgin  ?" 

THE  POOTY   GIRL   IN  SPECTACLES. 

I  returned  in  the  Hoss  Cars,  part  way.  A  pooty 
girl  in  spectacles  sot  near  me,  and  was  tellin'  a 
young  man  how  much  he  reminded  her  of  a  man 
she  used  to  know  in  Waltham.  Pooty  soon  the 
young  man  got  out,  and,  smilin'  in  a  seductiv'  man- 
ner, I  said  to  the  girl  in  spectacles,  "  Don't  i"  remind 
you  of  somebody  you  used  to  know  ?" 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  you  do  remind  me  of  one  man, 
but  he  was  sent  to  the  penitentiary  for  stealin'  a 
Bar'l  of  mackril — ^he  died  there,  so  I  conclood  you 
ain't  A^m."  I  didn't  pursoo  the  conversation.  I 
only  heard  her  silvery  voice  once  more  durin'  the 
remainder  of  the  jerney.  Tumin'  to  a  respectable 
lookin'  female  of  advanced  summers,  she  asked  her 
if  she  had  seen  the  Grate  Orgin. 

We  old  chaps,  my  dear,  air  apt  to  forget  that  it 
is  sum  time  since  we  was  infants,  and  et  lite  food. 
Nothin'  of  further  int'rist  took  place  on  the  cars 
excep'  a  colored  gentleman,  a  total  stranger  to  me, 


BOSTON.  73 

asked  if  I'd  lend  him  ray  diamond  Brestpin  to  wear 
to  a  funeral  in  South  Boston.  I  told  him  I  wouldn't 
— not  apurpuss.  ' 

WILD   GAME. 

Altho'  fur  from  the  prahayries,  there  is  abundans 
of  wild  game  in  Boston,  such  as  quails,  snipes,  plo- 
ver and  Props. 

COMMON   SKOOLS. 

A  excellent  skool  sistim  is  in  vogy  here.  John 
Slurk,  my  old  pardner,  has  a  little  son  w^ho  has 
only  bin  to  skool  two  months,  and  yet  he  exhibertid 
his  father's  performin'  Bear  in  the  show  all  last 
summer.  I  hope  they  pay  partic'lar  'tention  to 
Spelin'  in  these  Skools,  because  if  a  man  can't  Spel 
wel  he's  of  no  'kount. 


I  ment  to  have  allooded  to  the  Grate  Orgin  in 
this  letter,  but  I  haven't  seen  it.  Mr,  Reveer, 
whose  tavern  I  stop  at,  informed  me  that  it  can  be 
distinctly  heard  through  a  smoked  glass  in  his  nativ 


74  BOSTON. 

town  in  New  Hampshire,  any  clear  day.  But  set- 
tin'  the  Grate  Orgin  aside  (and  indeed,  I  don't 
think  I  heard  it  mentioned  all  the  time  I  was  there), 
Boston  is  one  of  the  grandest,  sure-footedest,  clear- 
headed est,  comfortablest  cities  on  the  globe.  On- 
like  ev'ry  other  large  city  I  was  ever  in,  the  most 
of  the  hackmen  don't  seem  to  hav'  bin  speshuUy 
intended  by  natur  for  the  Burglery  perfession,  and 
it's  about  the  only  large  city  I  know  of  where  you 
don't  enjoy  a  brilliant  opportunity  of  bein'  swindled 
in  sum  way,  from  the  Risin  of  the  sun  to  the  goin 
down  thereof.  There4  I  say,  loud  and  continnered 
applaus'  for  Boston  I 

DOMESTIC  MATTEES. 

Kiss  the  children  for  me.  What  you  tell  me  'bout 
the  Twins  greeves  me  sorely.  When  I  sent  'em 
that  Toy  Enjine  I  had  not  contempyulated  that  they 
would  so  fur  forgit  what  was  doo  the  dignity  of 
our  house  as  to  squirt  dish-water  on  the  In  cum  Tax 
Collector.  It  is  a  disloyal  act,  and  shows  a  prema- 
toor  leanin'  tords  cussedness  that  alarms  me.  I 
send  to  Amelia  Ann,  our  oldest  dawter,  sum  new 


BOSTON.  75 

music,  viz :  "  I  am  Lonely  sints  My  Mother-in-law 
Died";  "Dear  Mother,  What  tho'  the  Hand  that 
Spanked  me  in  my  Childhood's  Hour  is  withered 
now  ?"  &c.  These  song  writers,  by  the  way,  air 
doin»  the  Mother  Bisiness  rather  too  muchly. 
Your  Own  Troo  husban', 

Aetemus  Ward. 


XL 

A  MORMON  ROMANCE.— REGINALD  GLOVERSON. 
Chapter  I. 

THE   MOEMOn's  DEPARTTXEB. 

The  morning  on  which  Reginald  Gloverson  was 
to  leave  Great  Salt  Lake  City  with  a  mule-train, 
dawned  beautifully. 

Reginald  Gloverson  was  a  young  and  thrifty  Mor- 
mon, with  an  interesting  family  of  twenty  young 
and  handsome  wives.  His  unions  had  never  been 
blessed  with  children.  As  often  as  once  a  year  he 
used  to  go  to  Omaha,  in  Nebraska,  with  a  mule- 
train  for  goods ;  but  although  he  had  performed  the 
rather  perilous  journey  many  times  with  entire 
safety,  his  heart  was  strangely  sad  on  this  particular 
morning,  and  filled  with  gloomy  forebodings. 

The  time  for  his  departure  had  arrived.  The 
high-spirited  mules  were  at  the  door,  impatiently 


A  MORMON  ROMANCE.  77 

champing  their  bits.      The  Mormon  stood   sadly 
among  his  weeping  wives. 

"Dearest  ones,"  he  said,  "I  am  singularly  sad^ 
at  heart,  this  morning ;  but  do  not  let  this  depress  ^ 
you.  The  journey  is  a  perilous  one,  but — pshaw ! 
I  have  always  come  back  safely  heretofore,  and  why 
should  I  fear  ?  Besides,  I  know  that  every  night, 
as  I  lay  down  on  the  broad  starlit  prairie,  your 
bright  faces  will  come  to  me  in  my  dreams,  and 
make  my  slumbers  sweet  and  gentle.  You,  Emily, 
with  your  mild  blue  eyes ;  and  you,  Henrietta,  with 
your  splendid  black  hair ;  and  you,  N^elly,  with 
your  hair  so  brightly,  beautifully  golden ;  and  you, 
MoUie,  with  your  cheeks  so  downy ;  and  you,  Bet- 
sey, with  your  wine-red  lips — far  more  delicious, 
though,  than  any  wine  I  ever  tasted — and  you, 
Maria,  with  your  winsome  voice ;  and  you,  Susan, 
with  your — with  your — that  is  to  say,  Susan,  with 

your and  the  other  thirteen  of  you,  each  so  good 

and  b/Bautiful,  will  come  to  me  in  sweet  dreams,  will 
you  not,  Dearestists  ?" 

"  Our  own,"  they  lovingly  chimed,  "  we  will !" 
"  And  so  farewell !"  cried  Reginald.     "  Come  to 


78  A  MORMON  ROMANCE. 

my  arms,  my  own !"  he  said,  "  that  is,  as  many  of 
you  as  can  do  it  conveniently  at  once,  for  I  must 
away." 

He  folded  several  of  them  to  his  throbbing  breast, 
and  drove  sadly  away. 


But  he  had  not  gone  far  when  the  trace  of  the 
off-hind  mule  became  unhitched.  Dismounting,  he 
essayed  to  adjust  the  trace ;  but  ere  he  had  fairly 
commenced  the  task,  the  mule,  a  singularly  refrac- 
tory animal — snorted  wildly,  and  Mcked  Reginald 
frightfully  in  the  stomach.  He  arose  with  difficulty, 
and  tottered  feebly  towards  his  mother's  house, 
which  was  near  by,  falling  dead  in  her  yard,  with 
the  remark,  "  Dear  Mother,  I've  come  home  to  die !" 

"  So  I  see,"  she  said ;  "  where's  the  mules  ?" 

Alas !  Reginald  Gloverson  could  give  no  answer. 
In  vain  the  heart-stricken  mother  threw  herself 
upon  his  inanimate  form,  crying,  "Oh,  my  son — 
my  son!  only  tell  me  where  the  mules  are,  and 
then  you  may  dife  if  you  want  to." 

In  vain — ^in  vain !    Regmald  had  passed  on. 


A   MORMON   ROMANCE. 


Chapter  II. 


FUNERAL  TRAPPINGS. 


The  mules  were  never  found. 

Reginald's  heart-broken  mother  took  the  body 
home  to  her  unfortunate  son's  widows.  But  before 
her  arrival  she  indiscreetly  sent  a  boy  to  Bust  the 
news  gently  to  the  afflicted  wives,  which  he  did  by 
informing  them,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  that  their 
"  old  man  had  gone  in." 

The  wives  felt  very  badly  indeed. 

"  He  was  devoted  to  me,"  sobbed  Emily. 

"  And  to  me,"  said  Maria. 

"  Yes,"  said  Emily,  "  he  thought  considerably  of 
you,  but  not  so  much  as  he  did  of  me." 

"  I  say  he  did !" 

"And  I  say  he  didn't!" 

"He  did!" 

"  He  didn't  I" 

"  Don't  look  at  me,  with  your  squint  eyes !" 

"  Don't  shake  your  red  head  at  me  .^" 

"  Sisters !"  said  the  black-haired  Henrietta,  "  cease 


80  A   MORMON  ROMANCE. 

this  unseemly  wrangling.  I,  as  his  first  wife,  shall 
strew  flowers  on  his  grave." 

"  No  you  won*t,'*^  said  Susan.  '"  I,  as  his  last  wife, 
shall  strew  flowers  on  his  grave.  It's  my  business 
to  strew !" 

"  You  shan't,  so  there !"  said  Henrietta. 

"  You  bet  I  will!"  said  Susan,  with  a  tear-suffiised 
cheek. 

"  Well,  as  for  me,"  said  the  practical  Betsy,  "  I 
ain't  on  the  Strew,  much,  but  I  shall  ride  at  the 
head  of  the  funeral  procession  !" 

"  Not  if  X've  been  introduced  to  myself,  you 
won't,"  said  the  golden-haired  Nelly;  "that's  my 
position.    You  bet  your  bonnet-stfings  it  is." 

"  Children,"  said  Reginald's  mother,  "  you  must 
do  some  crying,  you  know,  on  the  day  af  the  fune- 
ral ;  and  how  many  pocket-handkerchers  will  it  take 
to  go  round  ?  Betsy,  you  and  Nelly  ought  to  make 
one  do  between  you." 

"  I'll  tear  her  eyes  out  if  she  perpetuates  a  sob  on 
my  handkercher !"  said  Nelly. 

"  Dear  daughters-in-law,"  said  Reginald's  mother, 
"  how  unseemly  is  this  anger.  Mules  is  five  hundred 


"  I  knew  when  my  Reginald  staggered  Into  the  dooryard  that  hf  was  on  tae  Die." 

See  pag»  SI. 


A  MORMON  ROMANCE.  81 

dollars  a  span,  and  every  identical  mule  my  poor 
boy  had  has  been  gobbled  up  by  the  red  man.  I 
knew  when  my  Reginald  staggered  into  the  door- 
yard  that  he  was  on  the  Die,  but  if  I'd  only  thunk 
to  ask  him  about  them  mules  ere  his  gentle  spirit 
took  flight,  it  would  have  been  four  thousand  dol- 
lars in  our  pockets,  and  no  mistake  !  Excuse  those 
real  tears,  but  you've  never  felt  a  parent's  feelin's." 
"  It's  an  oversight,"  sobbed  Maria.  "  Don't  blame 
us!" 


Chapter  III. 

DUST    TO     DUST. 

The  funeral  passed  off  in  a  very  pleasant  manner, 
nothing  occurring  to  mar  the  harmony  of  the  occa- 
sion. By  a  happy  thought  of  Reginald's  mother 
the  wives  walked  to  the  grave  twenty  a-breast, 
which  rendered  that  part  of  the  ceremony  tho- 
roughly impartial. 

V  T*  •!*  -JC  •!•  tC  SfC  ^ 

That  night  the  twenty  wives,  with  heavy  hearts, 
4* 


82  A  MORMON  ROMANCE. 

sought  tbeir  twenty  respective  couches.     But  no 

Reginald  occupied  those  twenty  respective  couches 

— ^Reginald  would  nevermore  linger  all  night  in 

blissful  repose  in  those  twenty  respective  couches — 

Reginald's  head  would  nevermore  press  the  twenty 

respective  pillows  of  those  twenty  respective  couches 

— ^never,  nevermore ! 

******** 

In  another  house,  not  many  leagues  from  the 
House  of  Mourning,  a  gray-haired  woman  was  weep- 
ing passionately.  "  He  died,"  she  cried,  "  he  died 
without  sigerfyin',  in  any  respect,  where  them  mules 
went  to  !'* 


Chapteb  rv. 

MAERIED   AGAIN. 


Two  years  are  supposed  to  elapse  between  the 
third  and  fourth  chapters  of  this  original  American 


romance. 


A  manly  Mormon,  one  evening,  as  the  sun  was 
preparing  to  set  among  a  select  apartment  of  gold 


A  MORMON  ROMANCE.  83 

and  crimson  clouds  in  the  western  horizon — although 
for  that  matter  the  sun  has  a  right  to  "set" 
where  it  wants  to,  and  so,  I  may  add,  has  a  hen 
— a  manly  Mormon,  I  say,  tapped  gently  at  the 
door  of  the  mansion  of  the  late  Reginald  Glover- 
son. 

The  door  was  opened  by  Mrs.  Susan  Gloverson. 

"  Is  this  the  house  of  the  widow  Gloverson  ?" — 
the  Mormon  asked. 

"  It  is,"  said  Susan. 

"  And  how  many  is  there  of  she  ?"  inquired  the 
Mormon. 

"There  is  about  twenty  of  her,  including  me," 
courteously  returned  the  fair  Susan. 

"Can  I  see  her?" 

"  You  can." 

"  Madam,"  he  softly  said,  addressing  the  twenty 
disconsolate  widows,  "  I  have  seen  part  of  you  be- 
fore! And  although  I  have  already  twenty-five 
wives,  whom  I  respect  and  tenderly  care  for,  I  can 
truly  say  that  I  never  felt  love's  holy  thrill  till  I  saw 
thee !  Be  mine  —  be  mine  !"  he  enthusiastically 
cried,  "  and  we  will  show  the  world  a  striking  illus- 


84  A  MORMON   ROMANCE. 

tration  of  the  beauty  and  truth  of  the  noble  lines, 
only  a  good  deal  more  so — 

"  Twenty-one  souls  with  a  single  thought, 
Twenty-one  hearts  that  beat  as  one  I" 

They  were  united,  they  were ! 

Gentle  reader,  does  not  the  moral  of  this  romance 
show  that — does  it  not,  in  fact,  show  that  however 
many  there  may  be  of  a  young  widow  woman,  or 
rather  does  it  not  show  that  whatever  mimber  of 
persons  one  woman  may  consist  of — well,  never 
mind  what  it  shows.  Only  this  writing  Mormon 
romances  is  confusing  to  the  intellect.  You  try  it 
and  see. 


XII. 

AETEMUS  WARD  IN  RICHMOND. 

Richmond,  Ya.,  May — 18  &  65. 

OLONZO  WARD. 

Afore  I  comments  this  letter  from  the  late  rebil 
capitol  I  desire  to  cimply  say  that  I  hav  seen  a 
low  and  skurrilus  noat  in  the  papers  from  a  certin 
purson  who  singes  hisself  Olonzo  Ward,  &  sez  he 
is  my  berruther.  I  did  o?ice  hav  a  berruther  of 
that  name,  but  I  do  not  recugnise  him  now.  To 
me  he  is  wuss  than  ded !  I  took  him  from  coUige 
sum  16  years  ago  and  gave  him  a  good  situation 
as  the  Bearded  Woman  in  my  Show.  How  did 
he  repay  me  for  this  kindness  ?  He  basely  under- 
took (one  day  while  in  a  Backynalian  mood  on 
rum  &  right  in  sight  of  the  aujience  in  the  tent) 
to  stand  upon  his  hed,  whareby  he  betray'd  his 
sex  on  account  of  his  boots  &  his  Beard  fallin' 
off  his  face,  thus  rooinin'  my  prospecks  in  that 
town,    &  likewise  incurrin'   the   seris   displeasure 


S6  ARTEMUS  WARD  IN  RICHMOND. 

of  the  Press,  which  sed  boldly  I  was  triflin'  with 
the  feelin's  of  a  intelligent  public.  I  know  no 
such  man  as  Olonzo  Ward.  I  do  not  ever  wish 
his  name  breathed  in  my  presents.  I  do  not  recog- 
nise him.     I  perfectly  disgust  him. 

BICHMOND. 

The  old  man  finds  hisself  once  more  in  a  Sunny 
climb.  I  cum  here  a  few  days  arter  the  city  cat- 
terpillertulated. 

My  naburs  seemed  surprised  &  astonisht  at 
this  darin'  bravery  onto  the  part  of  a  man  at  my 
time  of  life,  but  our  family  was  never  know'd  to 
quale  in  danger's  stormy  hour. 

My  father  was  a  sutler  in  the  Revolootion 
War.  My  father  once  had  a  intervoo  with  Gin'- 
ral  La  Fayette. 

He  asked  La  Fayette  to  lend  him  five  dollars, 
promisin'  to  pay  him  in  the  Fall;  but  Lafy  said 
"he  couldn't  see  it  in  those  lamps.''  Lafy  was 
French,  and  his  knowledge  of  our  langwidge  was 
a  little  shaky. 

Immejutly  on  my  'rival  here  I  perceeded  to 
the  Spotswood  House,  and  callin'  to  my  assistans 


ARTEMUS  WARD   IN  RICHMOND.  87 

a  young  man  from  om*  town  who  wi'ites  a  good 
runnin'  hand,  I  put  my  ortograph  on  the  Regis- 
ter, and  handin'  my  umbrella  to  a  bald-heded 
man  behmd  the  counter,  who  I  s'posed  was  Mr. 
Spotswood,  I  said,  "  Spotsy,  how  does  she  run  ?" 

He  called  a  cullud  purson,  and  said, 

"Show  the  gen'lman  to  the  cowyard,  and  giv' 
him  cart  number  1.'' 

"  Isn't  Grant  here  ?"  I  said.  "  Perhaps  Ulyssis 
wouldn't  mind  my  turnui'  in  with  him." 

"Do  you  know  the  Gin'ral?"  inquired  Mr. 
Spotswood. 

"  Wall,  no,  not  'zackly ;  but  he'll  remember  me. 
His  brother-in-law's  Aunt  bought  her  rye  meal  of 
my  uncle  Levi  all  one  winter.  My  uncle  Levi's 
rye  meal  was '' 

"Pooh!  pooh!''  said  Spotsy,  "don't  bother 
me,"  and  he  shuv'd  my  umbrella  onto  the  floor. 
Obsarvin'  to  him  not  to  be  so  keerless  with  that 
wepin,  I  accompanid  the  African  to  my  lodgins. 

"My  brother,"  I  sed,  "air  you  aware  that 
you've  bin  'mancipated?  Do  you  realise  how 
glorus  it  is  to  be  free  ?    Tell  me,  my  dear  brother, 


88  ARTEMUS>WARD  IN  RICHMOND. 

does  it  not  seem  like  some  dreams,  or  do  you 
realise  the  great  fact  in  all  its  livin'  and  holy 
magnitood  ?" 

He  sed  he  would  take  some  gin. 

I  was  show'd  to  the  cowyard  and  laid  down 
under  a  one-mule  cart.  The  hotel  was  orful 
crowded,  and  I  was  sorry  I  hadn't  gone  to  the 
Libby  Prison.  Tho'  I  should  hav'  slept  comf'ble 
enuff  if  the  bed-clothes  hadn't  bin  pulled  off  me 
durin'  the  night,  by  a  sco'undrul  who  cum  and 
hitched  a  mule  to  the  cart  and  druv  it  off.  I 
thus  lost  ray  cuverin',  and  my  throat  feels  a  Httle 
husky  this  momin. 

Gin'ral  HuUeck  offers  me  the  hospitality  of  the 
city,  givin'  me  my  choice  of  hospitals. 

He  has  also  very  kindly  placed  at  my  disposal 
a  small-pox  amboolance. 

UNION  SENTIMENT. 

There  is  raly  a  great  deal  of  Union  sentiment 
in  this  city.    I  see  it  on  ev'ry  hand. 

I  met  a  man  to-day — I  am  not  at  liberty  to 
tell  his  name   but  he  is  a  old  and  inflooentooial 


ARTEMUS  WARD   IN  RICHMOND.  89 

citizen  of  Richmond,  and  sez  he,  "  Why !  we've 
bin  fightin'  agin  the  Old  Flag!  Lor'  bless  me, 
how  sing'lar!"  He  then  borrer'd  five  dollars  of 
me  and  bust  into  a  flood  of  terrs. 

Sed  another  (a  man  of  standin  and  formerly  a 
bitter  rebuel),  "Let  us  at  once  stop  this  effooshun 
of  Blud!  The  Old  Flag  is  good  enuff  for  me. 
Sir,''  he  added,  "you  air  from  the  North!  Have 
you  a  doughnut  or  a  piece  of  custard  pie  about 
you?" 

I  told  him  no,  but  I  knew  a  man  from  Ver- 
mont who  had  just  organized  a  sort  of  restaurant, 
where  he  could  go  and  make  a  very  comfortable 
breakfast  on  ll^ew  England  rum  and  cheese.  He 
borrowed  fifty  cents  of  me,  and  askin'  me  to 
'send  him  Wm.  Lloyd  Garrison's  ambrotype  as 
soon  as  I  got  home,  he  walked  off*. 

Said  another,  "  There's  bin  a  tremenduous  Union 
feelin'  here  from  the  fust.  But  we  was  kept  down 
by  a  rain  of  terror.  Have  you  a  dagerretype  of 
Wendell  Phillips  about  your  person  ?  and  will  you 
lend  me  four  dollars  for  a  few  days  till  we  air  once 
more  a  happy  and  united  people." 


90  ABTEMUS  WARD  IN  RICHMOND. 

JEFF.    DAVIS. 

Jeff.  Davis  is  not  pop'lar  here.  She  is  regarded 
as  a  Southern  sympathiser.  &  yit  I'm  told  he  was 
kind  to  his  Parents.  She  ran  away  from  'em  many 
years  ago,  and  has  never  bin  back.  This  was  showin' 
'em  a  good  deal  of  consideration  when  we  refleck 
what  his  conduck  has  been.  Her  captm*  in  female 
apparel  confooses  me  in  regard  to  his  sex,  &  you  see 
I  speak  of  him  as  a  her  as  frekent  as  otherwise,  &  I 
guess  he  feels  so  hisself 

R.    LEE. 

t 
Robert  Lee  is  regarded- as  a  noble  feller. 

He  was  opposed  to  the  war  at  the  fust,  and  draw'd 

his  sword  very  reluctant.    In  fact,  he  wouldn't  hav' 

drawd  his  sword  at  all,  only  l;ie  had  a  large  stock  of 

military  clothes  on  hand,  which  he  didn't  want  to 

waste.    He  sez  the  colored  man  is  right,  and  he  will 

at  once  go  to  New  York  and  open  a  Sabbath 

School  for  negro  minstrels. 

THE   CONFEDEEATE   AEMY. 

The  surrender  of  R.  Lee,  J.  Johnston  and  others 


ARTEMUS   WARD   IN   RICHMOND.  91 

leaves  the  Confedrit  Army  in  a  ruther  shattered 
state.  That  army  now  consists  of  Kirby  Smith,  fom* 
mules  and  a  Bass  drum,  and  is  movin  rapidly  to'rds 
Texis. 

A   PKOTJD   AND   HAWTY   SUTHENEK. 

Feelin'  a  little  peckish,  I  went  into  a  eatin'  house 
to-day,  and  encountered  a  young  man  with  long 
black  hair  and  slender  frame.  He  didn't  wear 
much  clothes,  and  them  as  he  did  wear  looked  on- 
healthy.  He  frowned  on  me,  and  sed,  kinder 
scornful,  "  So,  Sir — you  come  here  to  taunt  us  in 
our  hour  of  trouble,  do  you  ?" 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  I  cum  here  for  hash !" 

"  Pish-haw !''  he  sed  sneerinly,  "  I  mean  you  air 
in  this  city  for  the  purpuss  of  gloatin'  over  a  fallen 
peple.  Others  may  basely  succiunb,  but  as  for  me, 
I  will  never  yield — never,  never  /" 

"  Hav'  suthin'  to  eat !"  I  pleasantly  suggested. 

"Tripe  and  onions!"  he  sed  furcely;  then  he 
added,  "  I  eat  with  you,  but  I  hate  you.  You're  a 
low-lived  Yankee !" 

To  which  I  pleasantly  replied,  "  How'l  you  have 
your  tripe?" 


92  ARTEMUS  WARD  IN   RICHMOND. 

"  Fried,  mudsill !  with  plenty  of  ham-fat !" 

He  et  very  ravenus.  Poor  feller !  He  had  lived 
on  odds  and  ends  for  several  days,  eatin'  crackers 
that  had  bin  turned  over  by  revelers  in  the  bread- 
tray  at  the  bar. 

He  got  full  at  last,  and  his  hart  softened  a  little 
to'ards  me.  "After  all,"  he  sed,  "you  hav  sum 
peple  at  the  North  who  air  not  wholly  loathsum 
beasts?" 

"  Well,  yes,"  I  sed,  "  we  hav'  now  and  then  a  man 
among  us  who  isn't  a  cold-bluded  scoundril.  Young 
man,"  I  mildly  but  gravely  sed,  "  this  crooil  war  is 
over,  and  you're  lickt !  It's  rather  necessary  for  sum- 
body  to  lick  in  a  good  square,  lively  fite,  and  in  this 
'ere  case  it  happens  to  be  the  United  States  of 
America.  You  fit  splendid,  but  we  was  too  many 
for  you.  Then  make  the  best  of  it,  &  let  us  all  give 
in  and  put  the  Republic  on  a  firmer  basis  nor  ever. 

"  I  don't  gloat  over  your  misfortins,  my  young 
fren'.  Fur  from  it.  I'm  a  old  man  now,  &  my 
hart  is  softer  nor  it  once  was.  You  see  my  specta- 
cles is  misten'd  with  suthin'  very  like  tears.  I'm 
thinkin'  of  the  sea  of  good  rich  Blud  that  has  been 


ARTEMUS  WARD   IN  RICHMOND.  93 

spilt  on  both  sides  in  this  dredful  war !  I'm  thinkin' 
of  our  widders  and  orfuns  North,  and  of  your'n  in 
the  South.  I  kin  cry  for  both.  B'leeve  me,  my 
young  fren',  I  kin  place  my  old  hands  tenderly  on 
the  fair  yung  hed  of  the  Virginny  maid  whose  lover 
W4S  laid  low  in  Ijhe  battle  dust  by  a  fed'ral  bullet, 
and  say,  as  fervently  and  piously  as  a  vener'ble  sin- 
ner like  me  kin  say  anythin',  God  be  good  to  you, 
my  poor  dear,  my  poor  dear.'' 

I  riz  up  to  go,  &  takin'  my  yung  Southern  fren' 
kindly  by  the  hand,  I  sed,  "  Yung  man,  adoo !  You 
Southern  fellers  is  probly  my  brothers,  tho'  you've 
occasionally  had  a  cussed  queer  way  of  showin'  it ! 
It's  over  now.  Let  us  all  jine  in  and  make  a  country 
on  this  continent  that  shall  giv'  all  Europe  the  cramp 
in  the  stummuck  ev'ry  time  they  look  at  us !  Adoo, 
adoo !" 

And  as  I  am  through,  I'll  likewise  say  adoo  to 
you,  jentle  reader,  merely  remarkin'  that  the  Star- 
Spangled  Banner  is  wavin'  round  loose  agin,  and 
that  there  don't  seem  to  be  anything  the  matter 
with  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  beyond  a  slite  cold. 

Aetemus  Waed. 


XIII. 

ARTEMUS  WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

Friend  Wales, — You  remember  me.  I  saw  you 
in  Canady  a  few  years  ago.  I  remember  you  too. 
I  seldim  forgit  a  person. 

I  hearn  of  your  marrige  to  the  Printcis  Alexan- 
dry,  &  merit  ter  writ  you  a  congratoolatory  letter 
at  the  time,  but  I've  bin  bildin  a  barn  this  summer, 
&  hain't  had  no  time  to  write  letters  to  folks.  Ex- 
coos  me. 

Numeris  changes  has  tooken  place  since  we  met 
in  the  body  politic.  The  body  politic,  in  fack,  is 
sick.  I  sumtimes  think  it  has  got  biles,  friend  Wales. 

In  my  country  we've  got  a  war,  while  your  coun- 
try, in  conjunktion  with  Cap'n  Sems  of  the  Alo- 
barmy,  manetanes  a  nootrol  position  ! 

I'm  fraid  I  can't  write  goaks  when  I  sit  about  it. 
Oh  no,  I  guess  not ! 

Yes,  Sir,  we've  got  a  war,  and  the  troo  Patrit 
has  to  make  sacrifisses,  you  bet. 


A.   WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES.        95 

I  have  alreddy  given  two  cousins  to  the  war,  &  I 
stand  reddy  to  sacrifiss  my  wife's  brother  ruther  'n 
not  see  the  rebelyin  krusht.  And  if  wuss  cums  to 
wuss  I'll  shed  ev'ry  drop  of  blud  my  able-bodid 
relations  has  got  to  prosekoot  the  war.  I  think 
sumbody  oughter  be  prosekooted,  &  it  may  as  well 
be  the  war  as  any  body  else.  When  I  git  a  goakin 
fit  onto  me  it's  no  use  to  try  ter  stop  me. 

You  hearn  about  the  draft,  friend  Wales,  no 
doubt.  It  causd  sum  squirmin',  but  it  was  fairly 
conducted,  I  think,  for  it  hit  all  classes.  It  is  troo 
that  Wendill  Phillips,  who  is  a  American  citizen  of 
African  scent,  'scaped,  but  so  did  Vallandiggum, 
who  is  Conservativ,  and  who  wus  resuntly  sent 
South,  tho'  he  would  have  bin  sent  to  the  Dry  Tor- 
toogus  if  Abe  had  'sposed  for  a  minit  that  the  Tor- 
toogusses  would  keep  him. 

We  hain't  got  any  daily  paper  in  our  town,  but 
we've  got  a  female  sewin'  circle,  which  ansers  the 
same  purpuss,  and  we  wasn't  long  in  suspents  as  to 
who  was  drafted. 

One  young  man  who  was  drawd  claimed  to  be 
exemp  because  he  was  the  only  son  of  a  widow'd 


96        A.   WARD  TO  THE   PRINCE   OF  WALES. 

mother  who  supported  him.  A  few  able-bodid 
dead  men  was  drafted,  but  whether  their  heirs  will 
have  to  pay  3  hundrid  dollars  a  peace  for  'em  is  a 
question  for  Whitin',  who  'pears  to  be  tinkerin'  up 
this  draft  bizniss  right  smart.  I  hope  he  makes 
good  wages. 

I  think  most  of  the  conscrips  in  this  place  will 
go.  A  few  will  go  to  Canady,  stoppin'  on  their 
way  at  Concord,  N.  H.,  where  I  understan  there  is 
a  Muslum  of  Harts. 

You  see  I'm  sassy,  friend  Wales,  hittin'  all  sides ; 
but  no  offense  is  ment.  You  know  I  ain't  a  politi- 
cian, and  never  was.  I  vote  for  Mr.  Union — that's 
the  only  candidate  I've  got.  I  claim,  howsever,  to 
have  a  well-balanced  mind  ;  tho'  my  idees  of  a  well- 
balanced  mind  differs  from  the  idees  of  a  partner  I 
once  had,  whose  name  it  was  Billson.  Billson  and 
me  orjanized  a  strollin'  dramatic  company,  &  we 
played  The  Drunkard,  or  the  Falling  Saved,  with  a 
real  drunkard.  The  play  didn't  take  particlarly, 
and  says  Billson  to  me.  Let's  giv  'em  some  immoral 
dramy.  We  had  a  large  troop  onto  our  hands, 
consistin'  of  eight  tragedians  and  a  bass  drum,  but 


The  miserable  man  once  played  Hamlet,  and  expired  to  slow  music  (produced  by 
himaelf  a«  there  waa  no  offchestra).    S&e  page  9T. 


A.   WAKD  TO  THE  PRINCE   OF  WALES.        97 

I  says,  No,  Billson ;  and  then  says  I,  Billson,  you 
hain't  got  a  well-balanced  mind.  Says  he,  Yes,  I 
have,  old  hoss-fly  (he  was  a  low  cuss) — yes,  I  have. 
I  have  a  mind,  says  he,  that  balances  in  any  direc- 
tion that  the  public  rekires.  That's  wot  I  calls  a 
well-balanced  mind.  1  sold  out  and  bid  adoo  to 
Billson.  He  is  now  an  outcast  in  the  State  of  Ver- 
mont. The  miser'ble  man  once  played  Hamlet. 
There  wasn't  any  orchestry,  and  wishin'  to  expire 
to  slow  moosic,  he  died  playin'  on  a  claironett  him- 
self, interspersed  with  hart-rendin'  groans,  &  such 
is  the  world !  Alars !  alars !  how  onthankful  we 
air  to  that  Providence  which  kindly  allows  us  to 
live  and  borrow  money,  and  fail  and  do  bizniss ! 

But  to  return  to  our  subjeck.  With  our  resunt 
grate  triumps  on  the  Mississippi,  the  Father  of 
Waters  (and  them  is  waters  no  Father  need  feel 
'shamed  of — twig  the  wittikism  ?),  and  the  cheerin' 
look  of  things  in  other  places,  I  reckon  we  shan't 
want  any  Muslum  of  Harts.  And  what  upon  airth 
do  the  people  of  Concord,  N.  H.,  want  a  Muslum 
of  Harts  for  ?  Hain't  you  got  the  State  House 
now  ?  &  what  more  do  you  want  ? 


98        A.   WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

But  all  this  is  furiin  to  the  purpuss  of  this  note, 
arter  all.  My  objeck  in  now  addressin'  you  is  to 
giv  you  sum  adwice,  friend  Wales,  about  managin' 
your  wife,  a  bizniss  I've  had  over  thirty  years  ex- 
perience in. 

You  had  a  good  weddin.  The  papers  hav  a 
good  deal  to  say  about  "  vikins"  in  connexion  thare- 
with.  Not  knowings  what  that  air  and  so  I  frank- 
ly tells  you,  my  noble  lord  dook  of  the  throne,  I 
can't  zackly  say  whether  we  had  'em  or  not.  We 
was  both  very  much  flustrated.  But  I  never  in- 
joyed  myself  better  in  my  life. 

Dowtless,  your  supper  was  ahead  of  our'n.  As 
regards  eatin'  uses  Baldinsville  was  allers  shaky. 
But  you  can  git  a  good  meal  in  New  York,  &  cheap 
too.  You  can  git  half  a  mackril  at  Delmonico's  or 
Mr.  Mason  Dory's  for  six  dollars,  and  bUed  perta- 
ters  throw'd  in. 

As  I  sed,  I  manige  my  wife  without  any  particler 
trouble.  When  I  fust  commenst  trainin'  her  I  in- 
stitooted  a  series  of'experiments,  and  them  as  didn't 
work  I  abanding'd.  You'd  better  do  similer. 
Your  wife  may  objeck  to  gittin'  up  and  bildin'  the 


A.   WARD  TO  THE   PRINCE   OF  WALES.         99 

fire  in  the  moniin',  but  if  you  commence  with  her 
at  once  you  may  be  able  to  overkum  this  prejoodiss. 
I  regret  to  obsarve  that  I  didn't  commence  arly 
enuff.  I  wouldn't  have  you  s'pose  I  was  ever 
kicked  out  of  bed.  Not  at  all.  I  simply  say,  in 
regard  to  bildin'  fires,  that  I  didn't  commence  arly 
enufl".  It  was  a  ruther  cold  mornin'  when  I  fust 
proposed  the  idee  to  Betsy.  It  wasn't  well  re- 
ceived, and  I  found  myself  layin'  on  the  floor  putty 
suddent.  I  thought  I  git  up  and  bild  the  fire  my- 
self. 

Of  course  now  you're  marrid  you  can  eat  onions. 
I  alius  did,  and  if  I  know  my  own  hart,  I  alius 
will.  My  daughter,  who  is  goin'  on  17  and  is 
frisky,  says  they's  disgustin.  And  speakin  of  my 
daughter  reminds  me  that  quite  a  number  of  young 
men  have  suddenly  discovered  that  I'm  a  very  en- 
tertainin'  old  feller,  and  they  visit  us  frekently, 
specially  on  Sunday  evenins.  One  young  chap — a 
lawyer  by  habit — don't  cum  as  much  as  he  did. 
My  wife's  father  lives  with  us.  His  intelleck  tot- 
ters a  little,  and  he  saves  the  papers  containin'  the 

proceedins  of  our  State  Legislator.    The  old  gen- 
4* 


100      A.   WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

'I'man  likes  to  read  out  loud,  and  he  reads  tol'ble 
well.  He  eats  hash  freely,  which  makes  his  voice 
clear;  but  as  he  onfortnilly  has  to  spell  the  most 
of  his  words,  I  may  say  he  reads  slow.  Wall, 
whenever  this  lawyer  made  his  appearance  I  would 
set  the  old  man  a-readin  the  Legislativ'  reports.  I 
kept  the  young  lawyer  up  one  night  till  12  o'clock, 
listenin  to  a  lot  of  acts  in  regard  to  a  draw-bridge 
away  orf  in  the  east  part  of  the  State,  havin'  sent 
my  daughter  to  bed  at  half  past  8.  He  hasn't  bin 
there  since,  and  I  understan'  he  says  I  go  round 
swindlin'  the  Public. 

I  never  attempted  to  reorganize  my  wife  but 
once.  I  shall  never  attempt  agin.  I'd  bin  to  a 
public  dinner,  and  had  allowed  myself  to  be  be- 
trayed into  drinkin'  several  people's  healths;  and 
wishin'  to  make  'em  as  robust  as  possible,  I  contin- 
uerd  drinkin'  their  healths  until  my  own  became 
affected.  Consekens  was,  I  presented  myself  at 
Betsy's  bedside  late  at  night  with  consid'ble  licker 
concealed  about  my  persoiji.  I  had  sumhow  got 
perseshun  of  a  hosswhip  on  my  way  home,  and  re- 
memberin'     sum     cranky    observations    of     Mrs. 


A.   WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE   OF  WALES.     101 

Ward's  in  the  mornin',  I  snapt  the  whip  putty 
lively,  and,  in  a  very  loud  woice,  I  said,  "  Betsy, 
you  need  reorganizin' !  I  have  cum,  Betsy,"  I 
continued — crackin'  the  whip  over  the  bed — "  I 
have  cum  to  reorganize  you !  Ha-ave  you  per-ayed 
to-night?" 

I  dream'd  that  night  that  surabody  had  laid  a 
hosswhip  over  me  sev'ril  conseckootiv  times;  and 
when  I  woke  up  I  found  she  had.  I  hain't  drank 
much  of  any  thin'  since,  and  if  I  ever  have  another 
reorganizin'  job  on  hand  I  shall  let  it  out. 

My  wife  is  52  years  old,  and  has  alius  sustaned  a 
good  character.  She's  a  good  cook.  Her  mother 
lived  to  a  vener'ble  age,  and  died  while  in  the  act 
of  frying  slap-jacks  for  the  County  Commissioners. 
And  may  no  rood  hand  pluk  a  flour  from  her  toom- 
stun  I  We  hain't  got  any  picter  of  the  old  lady, 
because  she'd  never  stand  for  her  ambrotipe,  and 
therefore  I  can't  giv  her  likeness  to  the  world 
through  the  meejum  of  the  illusterated  papers ;  but 
as  ghe  wasn't  a  brigadier-gin'ral,  particerly,  I  don't 
s'pose  they'd  publish  it,  any  how. 


102      A.   WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

It's  best  to  give  a  woman  consid'ble  lee-way. 
But  not  too  much.  A  naber  of  mine,  Mr.  Roofus 
Minkins,  was  once  very  sick  with  the  fever,  but  his 
wife  moved  his  bed  into  the  door-yard  while  she 
was  cleanin'  house.  I  told  Roofus  this  wasn't  the 
thing,  'specially  as  it  was  rainin'  vi'lently ;  but  he 
said  he  wanted  to  giv  his  wife  "  a  little  lee-way." 
That  was  2  mutch.  I  told  Mrs.  Minkins  that  her 
Roofus  would  die  if  he  staid  out  there  into  the 
rain  much  longer ;  when  she*said,  "it  shan't  be  my 
fault  if  he  dies  unprepared,"  at  the  same  time 
tossin'  him  his  mother's  Bible.  It  was  orful!  I 
stood  by,  however,  and  nussed  him  as  well's  I 
could,  but  I  was  a  putty  wet-nuss,  I  tell  you. 

There's  vans  ways  of  managin'  a  wife,  friend 
Wales,  but  the  best  and  only  safe  way  is  to  let  her 
do  jist  about  as.  she  wants  to.  I  'dopted  that 
there  plan  sum  time  ago,  and  it  works  like  a 
charm. 

Remember  me  kindly  to  Mrs.  Wales,  and  good 
luck  to  you  both !  And  as  years  roll  by,  and  acci- 
dents begin  to  happen  to  you — among  which  I  hope 
there'll  be  Twins — you  will   agree   with  me  that 


A.   WARD   TO  THE   PRINCE   OF  WALES.      103 

family  joys  air  the  only  ones  a  man  can  bet  on  with 
any  certinty  of  winnin'. 

It  may  interest  you  to  know  that  I'm  prosperin' 
in  a  pecoonery  pint  of  view.  I  make  'bout  as  much 
in  the  course  of  a  year  as  a  Cab'net  offisser  does,  & 
I  understan'  my  bizniss  a  good  deal  better  than  sum 
of  'em  do. 

Respecks  to  St.  Gorge  &  the  Dragon. 

"  Ever  be  happy." 

A.  Ward. 


AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GREEN. 

It  isn't  every  one  who  has  a  village  green  to  write 
about.  I  have  one,  although  I  have  not.  seen  much 
of  it  for  some  years'  past.  I  am  back  again,  now. 
In  the  language  of  the  duke  who  went  roimd  with 
a  motto  about  him,  "  I  am  here ! "  and  I  fancy  I  am 
about  as  happy  a  peasant  of  the  vale  as  ever  gar- 
nished a  melodrama,  although  I  have  not  as  yet 
danced  on  my  village  green,  as  the  melo-dramatic 
peasant  usually  does  on  his.  It  was  the  case  when 
Rosina  Meadows  left  home. 

The  time  rolls  by  serenely  now — so  serenely  that 
I  don't  care  what  time  it  is,  which  is  fortunate, 
because  my  watch  is  at  present  in  the  hands  of 
those  "  men  of  New  York  who  are  called  rioters." 
We  met  by  chance,  the  usual  way — certainly  not  by 
appointment — and  I  brought  the  interview  to  a 
close  with  all  possible  despatch.  Assuring  them 
that  I  wasn't  Mr.  Greeley,  particularly,  and  that  he 
had  never  boarded  in  the  private  family  where  I 


AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE   VILLAGE   GREEN.     105 

enjoy  the  comforts  of  a  home,  I  tendered  them  my 
watch,  and  begged  they  would  distribute  it  judi- 
ciously among  the  laboring  classes,  as  I  had  seen  the 
rioters  styled  in  certain  public  prints. 

Why  should  I  loiter  feverishly  in  Broadway, 
stabbing  the  hissing  hot  air  with  the  splendid  gold- 
headed  cane  that  was  presented  to  me  by  the  citi- 
zens of  Waukegan,  Illinois,  as  a  slight  testimonial 
of  their  esteem  ?  Why  broil  in  my  rooms  ?  You 
said  to  me,  Mrs.  Gloverson,  when  I  took  possession 
of  those  rooms,  that  no  matter  how  warm  it  might 
be,  a  breeze  had  a  way  of  blowing  into  them,  and 
that  they  were,  withal,  quite  countryfied ;  but  I  am 
bound  to  say,  Mrs.  Gloverson,  that  there  was 
nothing  about  them  that  ever  reminded  me,  in  the 
remotest  degree,  of  daisies  or  new-mown  hay. 
Thus,  with  sarcasm,  do  I  smash  the  deceptive 
Gloverson. 

Why  stay  in  New  York  when  I  had  a  village 
green  ?  I  gave  it  up,  the  same  as  I  would  an  intri- 
cate conundrum — and,  in  short,  I  am  here. 

Do  I  miss  the  glare  and  crash  of  the  imperial 

thoroughfare?   the    milkman,  the    fiery,  untamed 
5* 


106     AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE  VILLAGE   GREEN. 

omnibus  horses,  the  soda  fountains,  Central  Park, 
and  those  things  ?  Yes,  I  do ;  and  I  can  go  on 
missing  'era  for  quite  a  spell,  and  enjoy  it. 

The  village  from  which  I  write  to  you  is  small. 
It  does  not  contain  over  forty  houses,  all  told  ;  but 
they  are  milk-white,  with  the  greenest  of  blinds,  and 
for  the  most  part  are  shaded  with  beautiful  elms 
and  willows.  To  the  right  of  us  is  a  mountain — to 
the  left  a  lake.  The  village  nestles  between.'  Of 
course  it  does.  I  never  read  a  novel  in  my  life  in 
which  the  villages  didn't  nestle.  Villages  invariably 
nestle.    It  is  a  kind  of  way  they  have. 

We  are  away  from  the  cars.  The  iron-horse,  as 
my  little  sister  aptly  remarks  in  her  composition  On 
Nature,  is  never  heard  to  shriek  in  our  midst ;  and 
on  the  whole  I  am  glad  of  it. 

The  villagers  are  kindly  people.  They  are  rather 
incoherent  on  the  subject  of  the  war,  but  not  more 
so,  perhaps,  than  are  people  elsewhere.  One  citi- 
zen, who  used  to  sustain  a  good  character,  sub- 
scribed for  the  Weekly  New  York  Herald,  a  few 
months  since,  and  went  to  studying  the  military 
maps  in  that  well-known  journal  for  the  fireside.      I 


AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE   VILLAGE  GREEN.      107 

need  not  inform  you  that  his  intellect  now  totters, 
and  he  has  mortgaged  his  farm.  In  a  literary  point 
of  view  we  are  rather  bloodthirsty.  A  pamphlet 
edition  of  the  life  of  a  cheerful  being,  who  slaugh- 
tered his  wife  and  child,  and  then  finished  himself, 
is  having  an  extensive  sale  just  now. 

"We  know  little  of  Honore  de  Balzac,  and  per- 
haps care  less  for  Victor  Hugo.  M.  Claes's  grand 
search  for  the  Absolute  doesn't  thrill  us  in  the  least ; 
and  Jean  Valjean,  gloomily  picking  his  way  through 
the  sewers  of  Paris,  with  the  spoony  young  man 
of  the  name  of  Marius  upon  his  back,  awakens  no 
interest  in  our  breasts.  I  say  Jean  Valjean  picked 
his  way  gloomily,  and  I  repeat  it.  No  man,  under 
those  circumstances,  could  have  skipped  gaily.  But 
this  literary  business,  as  the  gentlfeman  who  married 
his  colored  chambermaid  aptly  observed,  "  is  simply 
a  matter  of  taste." 

The  store — ^I  must  not  forget  the  store.  It  is  an 
object  of  great  interest  to  me.  I  usually,  encounter 
there,  on  sunny  afternoons,  an  old  Revolutionary 
soldier.  You  may  possibly  have  read  about 
"  Another  Revolutionary  Soldier  gone,"  but  this  is 


108     AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GREEN. 

one  who  hasn't  gone,  and,  moreover,  one  who 
doesn't  manifest  the  slightest  intention  of  going. 
He  distinctly  remembers  Washington,  of  course ; 
they  all  do ;  but  what  I  wish  to  call  special  atten- 
tion to,  is  the  fact  that  this  Revolutionary  soldier  is 
one  hundred  years  old,  that  his  eyes  are  so  good 
that  he  can  read  fine  print  without  spectacles — he 
never  used  them,  by  the  way — and  his  mind  is  per- 
fectly clear.  He  is  a  little  shaky  in  one  of  his  legs, 
but  otherwise  he  is  as  active  as  most  men  of  forty- 
five,  and  his  general  health  is  excellent.  He  uses 
no  tobacco,  but  for  the  last  twenty  years  he  has 
drunk  one  glass  of  liquor  every  day — no  more,  no 
less.  He  says  he  must  have  his  tod.  I  had  begun 
to  have  lurking  suspicions  about  this  Revolutionary 
soldier  business,  but  liere  is  an  original  Jacobs. 
But  because  a  man  can  drink  a  glass  of  liquor  a 
day,  and  live  to  be  a  hundred  years  old,  my  young 
readers  must  not  infer  that  by  drinking  two  glasses 
of  liquor  a  day  a  man  can  live  to  be  two  hundred. 
"  Which,  I  meanter  say,  it  doesn't  follor,"  as  Joseph 
Gargery  might  observe. 
This  store,  in  which  may  constantly  be  found 


AFFAIKS  ROUND  THE  VILLAGE   GREEN.    109 

calico  and  nails,  and  fish,  and  tobacco  in  kegs,  and 
snuff  in  bladders,  is  a  venerable  establishment.  As 
long  ago  as  1814  it  was  an  institution.  The  county 
troops,  on  their  way  to  the  defence  of  Portland, 
then  menaced  by  British  ships-of-war,  were  drawn 
up  in  front  of  this  very  store,  and  treated  at  the 
town's  expense.  Citizens  will. tell  you  how  the 
clergyman  refused  to  pray  for  the  troops,  because 
he  considered  the  war  an  unholy  one ;  and  how  a 
somewhat  eccentric  person,  of  dissolute  habits, 
volunteered  his  services,  stating  that  he  once  had 
an  uncle  who  was  a  deacon,  and  he  thought 
he  could  make  a  tolerable  prayer,  although  it 
was  rather  out  of  his  line ;  and  how  he  prayed  so 
long  and  absurdly  that  the  Colonel  ordered  him 
under  arrest,  but  that  even  while  soldiers  stood 
over  him  with  gleaming  bayonets,  the  reckless  being 
sang  a  preposterous  song  about  his  grandmother's 
spotted  calf,  with  its  Ri-fol-lol-tiddery-i-do ;  after 
which  he  howled  dismally. 

And  speaking  of  the  store,  reminds  me  of  a  little 
story.  The  author  of  "  several  successful  come- 
dies" has  been  among  us,  and  the  store  was  anxious 


110     AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GREEN. 

to  know  who  the  stranger  was.  And  therefore  the 
store  asked  him. 

"  What  do  you  follow,  sir  ?  "  respectfully  inquired 
the  tradesman. 

"  I  occasionally  write  fbr  the  stage,  sir." 

"  Oh ! "  returned  the  tradesman,  in  a  confused 
manner, 

"He  means,"  said  an  honest  villager,  with  a 
desire  to  help  the  puzzled  tradesman  out,  "  he  means 
that  he  writes  the  handbills  for  the  stage  drivers ! " 

I  believe  that  story  is  new,  although  |)erhaps  it  is 
not  of  an  uproariously  mirthful  character ;  but  one 
hears  stories  at  the  store  that  are  old  enough, 
goodness  knows — stories  which,  no  doubt,  diverted 
Methuselah  in  the  sunny  days  of  his  giddy  and 
thoughtless  boyhood. 

There  is  an  exciting  scene  at  the  store  occasion- 
ally. Yesterday  an  athletic  peasant,  in  a  state  of 
beer,  smashed  in  a  counter  and  emptied  two  tubs 
of  butter  on  the  floor.  His  father — a  white-haired 
old  man,  who  was  a  little  boy  when  the  Revolu- 
tionary war  closed,  but  who  doesn't  remember 
Washington  much^  came  round  in  the  evening  and 


AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE   VILLAGE   GREEN.     Ill 

settled  for  the  damages.  "  My  son,"  he  said,  "  has 
considerable  originality."  I  will  mention  that  this 
same  son  once  told  me  that  he  could  lick  me  with 
one  arm  tied  behind  him,  and  I  wag  so  thoroughly 
satisfied  he  could,  that  I  told  him  he  needn't  mind 
going  for  a  rope. 

Sometimes  I  go  a-visiting  to  a  farm-house,  on 
which  occasions  the  parlor  is  opened.  The  windows 
have  been  close-shut  ever  since  the  last  visitor  was 
there,  and  there  is  a  dingy  smell  that  I  struggle  as 
calmly  as  possible  with,  until  I  am  led  to  the  ban- 
quet of  steaming  hot  biscuit  and  custard  pie.  If 
they  would  only  let  me  sit  in  the  dear  old-fashioned 
kitchen,  or  on  the  door-stone— if  they  knew  how 
dismally  the  new  black  furniture  looked — but,  never 
mind,  I  am  not  a  reformer.  ISTo,  I  should  rather 
think  not. 

Gloomy  enough,  this  living  on  a  farm,  you  per- 
haps say,  in  which  case  you  are  wrong.  I  can't  ex- 
actly say  that  I  pant  to  be  an  agriculturist,  but  I 
do  know  that  in  the  main  it  is  an  independent, 
calmly  happy  sort  of  life.  I  can  see  how  the  pros- 
perous farmer  can  go  joyously  a-field  with  the  rise 


112     AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GREEN. 

of  the  sun,  and  how  his  heart  may  swell  with  pride 
over  bounteous  harvests  and  sleek  oxen.  And  it 
must  be  rather  jolly  for  him  on  winter  evenings  to 
sit  before  the  bright  kitchen  fire  and  watch  his  rosy 
boys  and  girls  as  they  study  out  the  charades  in  the 
weekly  paper,  and  gradually  find  out  why  my  first 
is  something  that  grows  in  a  garden,  and  my  second 
is  a  fish. 

On  the  green  hillside  over  yonder,  there  is  a  qui- 
vering of  snowy  drapery,  and  bright  hair  is  flashing 
in  the  morning  sunlight.  It  is  recess,  and  the  Semi- 
nary girls  are  running  in  the  tall  grass. 

A  goodly  seminary  to  look  at  outside,  certainly, 
although  I  am  pained  to  learn,  as  I  do  on  unpreju- 
diced authority,  that  Mrs.  Higgins,  the  Principal,  is 
a  tyrant,  who  seeks  to  crush  the  girls  and  trample 
upon  them ;  but  my  sorrow  is  somewhat  assuaged 
by  learning  that  Skimmerhorn,  the  pianist,  is  per- 
fectly splendid. 

Looking  at  these  girls  reminds  me  that  I,  too,  was 
once  young — and  where  are  the  friends  of  my 
youth  ?  I  have  found  one  of  'em,  certainly.  I  saw 
him  ride  in  the  circus  the  other  day  on  a  bareback 


AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE  VILLAGE   GREEN.     113 

horse,  and  even  now  his  name  stares  at  me  from 
yonder  board-fence,  in  green,  and  blue,  and  red,  and 
yellow  letters.  Dashington,  the  youth  with  whom 
I  used  to  read  the  able  orations  of  Cicero,  and  who, 
as  a  declaimer  on  exhibition  days,  used  to  wipe  the 
rest  of  us  boys  pretty  handsomely  out — well,  Dash- 
ington is  identified  with  the  hahbut  and  cod  inte- 
rest— drives  a  fish-cart,  in  fact,  from  a  certain  town 
on  the  coast,  back  into  the  interior.  Hurbertson, 
the  utterly  stupid  boy — ^the  lunkhead,  who  never 
had  his  lesson — ^he's  about  the  ablest  lawyer  a  sister 
State  can  boast.  Mills  is  a  newspaper  man,  and  is 
just  now  editing  a  Major-General  down  South. 

Singlinson,  the  sweet-voiced  boy,  whose  face  was 
always  washed  and  who  was  real  good,  and  who 
was  never  rude — he  is  in  the  penitentiary  for  put- 
ting his  uncle's  autograph  to  a  financial  document. 
Hawkins,  the  clergyman's  son,  is  an  actor,  and  Wil- 
liamson, the  good  little  boy  who  divided  his  bread 
and  butter  with  the  beggar-man,  is  a  failing  mer- 
chant, and  makes  money  by  it.  Tom  Slink,  who 
used  to  smoke  short-sixes  and  get  acquainted  with 
the  little  circus  boys,  is  popularly  supposed  to  be 


114    AFFAIRS  ROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GREEN. 

the  proprietor  of  a  cheap  gaming  establishment  in 
Boston,  where  the  beautiful  but  uncertain  prop  is 
nightly  tossed.  Be  sure,  the  Army  is  represented 
by  many  of  the  friends  of  my  youth,  the  most  of 
whom  have  given  a  good  account  of  themselves. 
But  Chahnerson  hasn't  done  much.  No,  Chalmer- 
Bon  is  rather  of  a  failure.  He  plays  on  the  guitar 
and  sings  love  songs.  Not  that  he  is  a  bad  man. 
A  kinder-hearted  creature  never  lived,  and  they  say 
he  hasn't  yet  got  over  crying  for  his  little  curly- 
haired  sister  who  died  ever  so  long  ago.  But  he 
knows  nothing  about  business,  politics,  the  world, 
and  those  things.  He  is  dull  at  trade, — indeed,  it 
is  a  common  remark  that  "  everybody  cheats  Chal- 
merson."  He  came  to  the  party  the  other  evening, 
and  brought  his  guitar.  They  wouldn't  have  him 
for  a  tenor  in  the  opera,  certainly,  for  he  is*  shaky  in 
his  upper  notes ;  but  if  his  simple  melodies  didn't 
gush  straight  from  the  heart,  why  were  my  trained 
eyes  wet  ?  And  although  some  of  the  girls  giggled, 
and  some  of  the  men  seemed  to  pity  him,  I  could 
not  help  fancying  that  poor  Chalmerson  was  nearer 
heaven  than  any  of  us  all ! 


AGRICULTURE. 

The  Barclay  County  Agricultural  Society  having 
seriously  invited  the  author  of  this  volume  to  address 
them  on  the  occasion  of  their  next  annual  Fair,  he 
wrote  the  President  of  that  Society  as  follows : 

New  York,  June  12,  1865. 
Dear  Sir  : — 

I  have  the  honor  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of 
your  letter  of  the  5th  inst.,  in  which  you  invite  me 
to  deliver  an  address  before  your  excellent  agricul- 
tural society. 

I  feel  flattered,  and  think  I  will  come. 

Perhaps,  meanwhile,  a  brief  history  of  my  expe- 
rience as  an  agriculturalist  will  be  acceptable  ;  and 
as  that  history  no  doubt  contains  suggestions  of 
value  to  the  entire  agricultural  community,  I  have 
concluded  to  write  to  you  through  the  Press. 

I  have  been  an  honest  old  fanner  for  some  four 
years. 

My  farm  is  in  the  interior  of  Maine.     Unfortu- 


116  AGRICULTURE. 

nately  my  lands  are  eleven  miles  from  the  railroad. 
Eleven  miles  is  quite  a  distance  to  haul  immense 
quantities  of  wheat,  corn,  rye,  and  oats ;  but  as  I 
hav'n't  any  to  haul,  I  do  not,  after  all,  suffer  much 
on  that  account. 

My  farm  is  more  especially  a  grass  farm. 

My  neighbors  told  me  so  at  first,  and  as  an  evi- 
dence that  they  were  sincere  in  that  opinion,  they 
turned  their  cows  on  to  it  the  moment  I  went  off 
**  lecturing." 

These  cows  are  now  quite  fat.  I  take  pride  in 
these  cows,  in  fact,  and  am  glad  I  own  a  grass  farm. 

Two  years  ago  I  tried  sheep-raising. 

I  bought  fifty  lambs,  and  turned  them  loose  on 
my  broad  and  beautiful  acres. 

It  was  pleasant  on  bright  mornings  to  stroll  lei- 
surely out  on  to  the  farm  in  my  dressing-gown, 
with  a  cigar  in  my  mouth,  and  watch  those  inno- 
cent little  lambs  as  they  danced  gaily  o'er  the  hill- 
side. "Watching  their  saucy  capers  reminded  me 
of  caper  sauce,  and  it  occurred  to  me  I  should  have 
some  very  fine  eating  when  they  grew  up  to  be 
"  muttons." 


Artemus  finds  it  pleasant  strolling  about  his  farm  with  dressing-gown  and  cigar. 
See  j-)age  11&. 


AGRICULTURE.  117 

My  gentle  shepherd,  Mr.  Eli  Perkins,  said,  "  We 
must  have  some  shepherd  dogs." 

I  had  no  very  precise  idea  as  to  what  shepherd 
dogs  were,  but  I  assumed  a  rather  profound  look, 
and  said  ! 

"  We  must,  Eli.  I  spoke  to  you  about  this  some 
time  ago !" 

I  wrote  to  my  old  friend,  Mr.  Dexter  H.  FoUett, 
of  Boston,  for  two  shepherd  dogs.  Mr.  F.  is  not 
an  honest  old  farmer  himself,  but  I  thought  he  knew 
about  shepherd  dogs.  He  kindly  forsook  far  more 
important  business  to  accommodate,  and  the  dogs 
came  forthwith.  They  were  splendid  creatures — 
snuff-colored,  hazel-eyed,  long-tailed,  and  shapely- 
jawed. 

We  led  them  proudly  to  the  fields. 

"Turn  them  in,  Eli,"  I  said. 

Eli  turned  them  in. 

They  went  in  at  once,  and  killed  twenty  of  my 
best  lambs  in  about  four  minutes  and  a  half. 

My  friend  had  made  a  trifling  mistake  in  the 
breed  of  these  dogs. 

These  dogs  were  not  partial  to  sheep. 


118  AGRICULTURE. 

Eli  Perkins  was  astonished,  and  observed : 

"  Waal !  did  you  ever  ?" 

I  certainly  never  had. 

There  were  pools  of  blood  on  the  greensward, 
and  fragments  of  wool  and  raw  lamb  chops  lay 
round  in  confused  heaps. 

The  dogs  would  have  been  sent  to  Boston  that 
night,  had  they  not  rather  suddenly  died  that  after- 
noon of  a  throat-distemper.  It  wasn't  a  swelling 
of  the  throat.  It  wasn't  diphtheria.  It  was  a  vio- 
lent opening  of  the  throat,  extending  from  ear  to 
eai". 

Thus  closed  their  life-stories.  Thus  ended  their 
interesting  tails. 

I  failed  as  a  raiser  of  lambs.  As  a  sheepist,  I  was 
not  a  success. 

Last  summer  Mr.  Perkins  said,  "I  think  we'd 
better  cut  some  grass  this  season,  sir." 

We  cut  some  grass. 

To  me  the  new-mown  hay  is  very  sweet  and  nice. 
The  brilliant  George  Arnold  sings  about  it,  in  beau- 
tiful verse,  down  in  Jersey  every  summer ;  so  does 
the  brilliant  Aldrich,  at  Portsmouth,  N.  H.    And 


AGRICULTURE.  119 

yet  I  doubt  if  either  of  these  men  knows  the  price 
of  a  ton  of  hay  to-day.  But  new-mown  hay  is  a 
really  fine  thing.    It  is  good  for  man  and  beast. 

We  hired  four  honest  farmers  to  assist  us,  and  I 
led  them  gaily  to  the  meadows. 

I  was  going  to  mow,  myself. 

I  saw  the  sturdy  peasants  go  round  once  ere  I 
dipped  my  flashing  scythe  into  the  tall  gre^n  grass. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?"  said  E.  Perkins. 

"  I  am  here  !" 

"  Then  follow  us !" 

I  followed  them. 

Followed  them  rather  too  closely,  evidently,  for  a 
white-haired  old  man,  who  immediately  followed 
Mr.  Perkins,  called  upon  us  to  halt.  Then  in  a  low 
firm  voice  he  said  to  his  son,  who  was  just  ahead 
of  me,  "  John,  change  places  with  me.  I  hain't  got 
long  to  live,  anyhow.  Yonder  berryin'  ground  will 
soon  have  these  old  bones,  and  it's  no  matter  whe- 
ther I'm  carried  there  with  one  leg  off  and  ter'ble 
gashes  in  the  other  or  not !  But  you,  John — you 
are  young." 

The  old  man  changed  places  with  his  son.      A 


120  AGRICULTURE. 

smile  of  calm  resignation  lit  up  his  wrinkled  face, 
as  he  said,  "  Now,  sir,  I  am  ready  I" 

"  "What  mean  you,  old  man  ?"  I  said. 

"I  mean  that  if  you  continner  to  bran'ish  that 
blade  as  you  have  been  bran'ishin'  it,  you'll  slash 
h out  of  some  of  us  before  we're  a  hour  older !" 

There  was  some  reason  mingled  with  this  white- 
haired  old  peasant's  profanity.  It  was  true  that  I 
had  twice  escaped  mowing  off  his  son's  legs,  and  his 
father  was  perhaps  naturally  alarmed. 

I  went  and  sat  down  under  a  tree.  "I  never 
know'd  a  literary  man  in  my  life,"  I  overheard  the 
old  man  say,  "  that  know'd  anything." 

Mr.  Perkins  was  not  as  valuable  to  me  this  season 
as  I  had  fancied  he  might  be.  Every  afternoon  he 
disappeared  from  the  field  regularly,  and  remained 
about  some  two  hours.  He  said  it  was  headache. 
He  inherited  it  from  his  mother.  His  mother  was 
often  taken  in  that  way,  and  suffered  a  great  deal. 

At  the  end  of  the  two  hours  Mr.  Perkins  would 
reappear  with  his  head  neatly  done  up  in  a  large 
wet  rag,  and  say  he  "  felt  better." 

One  afternoon  it  so  happened  that  I  soon  followed 


AGRICULTURE.  121 

the  invalid  to  the  house,  and  as  I  neared  the  porch 
I  heard  a  female  voice  energetically  observe,  "  You 
stop !"  It  was  the  voice  of  the  hired  girl,  and  she 
added,  "  V\l  holler  for  Mr.  Brown  !" 

"  Oh  no,  Nancy,"  I  heard  the  invalid  E.  Perkins 
soothingly  say,  "Mr.  Brown  knows  I  love  you. 
Mr.  Brown  approves  of  it !" 

This  was  pleasant  for  Mr.  Brown  I 

I  peered  cautiously  through  the  kitchen-blinds, 
and,  however  unnatural  it  may  appear,  the  lips  of 
Eli  Perkins  and  my  hired  girl  were  very  near  toge- 
ther. She  said,  "  You  shan't  do  so,"  and  he  do-soed. 
She  also  said  she  would  get  right  up  and  go  away, 
and  as  an  evidence  that  she  was  thoroughly 
in  earnest  about  it,  she  remained  where  she 
wa9. 

They  are  married  now,  and  Mr.  Perkins  is  trou- 
bled no  more  with  the  headache. 

This  year  we  are  planting  corn.  Mr.  Perkins 
writes  me  that  "  on  accounts  of  no  skare  krows  bein 
put  up  krows  cum  and  digged  fust  crop  up  but  soon 
got  nother  in.  Old  Bisbee  who  was  frade  youd  cut 
his  sons  leggs  of  Ses  you  bet  go  and  stan  up  in  feeld 


122  AGRICULTURE. 

yrself  with  dressin  gownd  on  &  gesses  krows  will 
keep  way.  this  made  Boys  in  store  larf.  no  More 
terday  from 

"  Yours 

"  respecful 

"  Eli  Peekins, 
"his  letter." 
My  friend  Mr.  D.  T.  T.  Moore,  of  the  BuraZ  Mw 
Yorker,  thinks  if  I  "  keep  on  "  I  will  get  in  the  Poor 
House  in  about  two  years. 

If  you  think  the  honest  old  farmers  of  Barclay 
County  want  me,  I  will  come. 
Truly  Yours, 

Chablbs  F.  Browne. 


PAKT  n. 

/ 

TO  CALIFORNIA  AND  BACK. 


^^ 


ON  THE  STEAMER.  125 


I. 

ON  THE  STEAMER. 

New  York,  Oct.  13, 1863. 

The  steamer  Ariel  starts  for  California  at  noon. 

Her  decks  are  crowded  with  excited  passengers, 
who  insanely  undertake  to  "  look  after"  their  trunks 
and  things;  and  what  with  o\ir  smashing  against 
each  other,  and  the  yells  of  the  porters,  and  the 
wails  over  lost  baggage,  and  the  crash  of  boxes,  and 
the  roar  of  the  boilers,  we  are  for  the  time  being 
about  as  unhappy  a  lot  of  maniacs  as  were  ever 
thrown  together. 

I  am  one  of  them.  I  am  rushing  round  with  a 
glaring  eye  in  search  of  a  box. 

Great  jam,  in  which  I  find  a  sweet  young  lady 
with  golden  hair,  clinging  to  me  fondly,  and  saying, 
"  Dear  George,  farewell !" — ^Discovers  her  mistake, 
and  disappears. 

I  should  like  to  be  George  some  more.  • 

Confusion  so  great  that  I  seek  refuge  in  a  state- 


126  ON  THE  STEAMER. 

room  which  contains  a  single  lady  of  forty-five  sum- 
mers, who  says,  "  Base  man !  leave  me !"  I  leave 
her. 

By-and-by  we  cool  down,  and  become  somewhat 
regulated. 


Next  Day, 
When  the  gong  sounds  for  breakfast  we  are  fairly 
out  on  the  sea,  which  runs  roughly,  and  the  Ariel 
rocks  wildly.  Many  of  the  passengers  are  sick,  and 
a  young  naval  officer  establishes  a  reputation  as  a 
wit  by  carrying  to  one  of  the  invalids  a  ,plate  of 
raw  salt  pork,  swimming  in  cheap  molasses.  I  am 
not  sick ;  so  I  roll  round  the  deck  in  the  most  cheer- 
ful sea-dog  manner. 


The  next  day  and  the  next  pass  by  in  a  serene 
manner.  The  waves  are  smooth  now,  and  we  can 
all  eat  and  sleep.  We  might  have  enjoyed  our- 
selves very  well,  I  fancy,  if  the  Ariel,  whose 
capacity  was  about  three  hundred  and  fifty  passen- 
gers, had  not  on  this  occasion  carried  nearly  nine 
hundred,  a  hundred  at  least  of  whom  were  children 


ON"  THE  STEAMER.  127 

of  an  unpleasant  age.  Captain  Semmes  captured 
the  Ariel  once,  and  it  is  to  be  deeply  regretted  that 
that  thrifty  buccaneer  hadn't  made  mince-meat  of 
her,  because  she  is  a  miserable  tub  at  best,  and 
hasn't  much  more  right  to  be  afloat  than  a  second- 
hand coffin  has.  I  do  not  know  her  proprietor,  Mr. 
C.  Vanderbilt.  But  I  know  of  several  excellent 
mUl  privileges  in  the  State  of  Maine,  and  not  one  of 
them  is  so  thoroughly  DarrCd  as  he  was  all  the  way 
from  New  York  to  Aspinwall. 

I  had  far  rather  say  a  pleasant  thing  than  a  harsh 
one ;  but  it  is  due  to  the  large  number  of  respectable 
ladies  and  gentlemen  who  were  on  board  the  steam- 
er Ariel  with  me  that  I  state  here  that  the  accommo- 
dations on  that  steamer  were  very  vile.  If  I  did  not 
so  state,  my  conscience  would  sting  me  through  life, 
and  I  should  have  horrid  dreams  like  Richard  IH.  Esq. 

The  proprietor  apparently  thought  we  were  under- 
going transportation  for  life  to  some  lonely  island, 
and  the  very  waiters  who  brought  us  meats  that  any 
warden  of  any  penitentiary  would  blush  to  offer  con- 
victs, seemed  to  think  it  was  a  glaring  error  our  not 
being  in  chams. 


128  OHf  THE  STEAMER. 

As  a  specimen  of  the  liberal  manner  in  which  this 
steamer  was  managed  I  will  mention  that  the  purser 
(a  very  pleasant  person,  by  the  way)  was  made  to 
unite  the  positions  of  purser,  baggage  clerk,  and  doc- 
tor ;  and  I  one  day  had  a  lurking  suspicion  that  he 
was  among  the  waiters  in  the  dining-cabin,  disguised 
in  a  white  jacket  and  slipshod  pumps. 


I  have  spoken  my  Piece  about  the  Ariel,  and  I  hope 
Mr.  Vanderbilt  will  reform  ere  it  is  too  late.  Dr. 
Watts  says  the  vilest  sinner  may  return  as  long  as 
the  gas-meters  work  well,  or  words  to  that  effect. 


We  were  so  densely  crowded  on  board  the  Ariel 
that  I  cannot  conscientiously  say  we  were  altogether 
happy.  And  sea-voyages  at  best  are  a  little  stupid. 
On  the  whole  I  should  prefer  a  voyage  on  the  Erie 
Canal,  where  there  isn't  any  danger,  and  where  you 
can  carry  picturesque  scenery  along  with  you — so  to 


n. 

THE  ISTHMUS. 

On  the  ninth  day  we  reach  Aspinwall  in  the  Re- 
public of  Grenada.  The  President  of  New  Granada 
is  a  Central  American  named  Mosquero.  I  was  told 
that  he  derived  quite  a  portion  of  his  income  by 
carrying  passengers'  valises  and  things  from  the 
steamer  to  the  hotels  in  Aspinwall.  It  was  an  infa- 
mous falsehood.  Fancy  A.  Lincoln  carrying  carpet- 
bags and  things !  and  indeed  I  should  rather  trust 
him  with  them  than  Mosquero,  because  the  former 
gentleman,  as  I  think  some  one  has  before  observed, 
is  "honest." 

I  intrust  my  bag  to  a  speckled  native,  who  confi- 
dentially gives  me  to  understand  that  he  is  the  only 
strictly  honest  person  in  Aspinwall.  The  rest,  he 
says,  are  niggers — which  the  colored  people  of  the 
Isthmus  regard  as  about  as  scathing  a  thing  as 
they  can  say  of  one  another. 

I  examine  the  New  Grenadian  flag,  which  waves 
6* 


130  THE  ISTHMUS. 

from  the  chamber-window  of  a  refreshment  saloon. 
It  is  of  simple  design.    You  can  make  one. 

Take  half  of  a  cotton  shirt,  that  has  been  worn 
two  months,  and  dip  it  in  molasses  of  the  Day  & 
Martin  brand.  Then  let  the  flies  gambol  over  it  for 
a  few  days,  and  you  have  it.  It  is  an  emblem  of 
Sweet  Liberty. 

At  the  Howard  House  the  man  of  sin  rubbeth 
the  hair  of  the  horse  to  the  bowels  of  the  cot,  and 
our  girls  are  waving  their  lily-white  hoofs  in  the 
dazzling  waltz. 

We  have  a  quadrille,  in  which  an  English  person 
slips  up  and  jams  his  massive  brow  against  my  sto- 
mach. He  apologizes,  and  I  say,  "all  right,  my 
lord."  I  subsequently  ascertained  that  he  superin- 
tended the  shipping  of  coals  for  the  British  steamers, 
and  owned  fighting  cocks. 

The  ball  stops  suddenly. 

Great  excitement.  One  of  our  passengers  intoxi- 
cated and  riotous  in  the  street.  Openly  and  avow- 
edly desires  the  entire  Kepublic  of  New  Grenada  to 
"  come  on." 

In  case  they  do  come  on,  agrees  to  make  it  lively 


^f,v-.Sc. 


An  inebriated  California  miner  desires  to  be  an  angel,  nnd  with  the  angels  stanj. 
Seepage  181. 


THE  ISTHMUS.  131 

for  them.  Is  quieted  down  at  last,  and  marched  ofi 
to  prison,  by  a  squad  of  Grenadian  troops.  Is  musi- 
cal as  he  passes  the  hotel,  and  smiling  sweetly  upon 
the  ladies  and  children  on  the  balcony,  expresses  a 
distinct  desire  to  be  an  Angel,  and  with  the  Angels 
stand.  After  which  he  leaps  nimbly  into  the  air 
and  imitates  the  war-cry  of  the  red  man. 


The  natives  amass  wealth  by  carrying  valises,  &c., 
then  squander  it  for  liquor.  'My  native  comes  to  me 
as  I  sit  on  the  veranda  of  the  Howard  House  smok- 
ing a  cigar,  and  solicits  the  job  of  taking  my  things 
to  the  cars  next  morning.  He  is  intoxicated,  and 
has  been  fighting,  to  the  palpable  detriment  of  his 
wearing  apparel ;  for  he  has  only  a  pair  of  tattered 
pantaloons  and  a  very  small  quantity  of  shirt  left. 


We  go  to  bed.  Eight  of  us  are  assigned  to  a 
small  den  up-stairs,  with  only  two  lame  apologies  for 
beds. 

Mosquitoes  and  even  rats  annoy  us  fearfully. 
One  bold  rat  gnaws  at  the  feet  of  a  young  English- 
man in  the  party.    This  was  more  than  the  young 


132  THE  ISTHMUS. 

Englishman  could  stand,  and  rising  from  his  bed  he 
asked  us  if  New  Grenada  wasn't  a  Republic  ?  "We 
said  it  was.  "  I  thought  so,"  he  said.  "  Of  course  I 
mean  no  disrespect  to  the  United  States  of  America 
in  the  remark,  but  I  think  I  prefer  a  bloated  monar- 
chy!" He  smiled  sadly — then  handing  his  purse 
and  his  mother's  photograph  to  another  English  per- 
son, he  whispered  softly,  "  If  I  am  eaten  up,  give 
them  to  Me  mother — tell  her  I  died  like  a  true  Bri- 
ton, with  no  faith  whatever  in  the  success  of  a  repub- 
lican form  of  government!"  And  .then  he  crept 
back  to  bed  again. 


We  start  at  seven  the  next  morning  for  Panama. 

My  native  comes  bright  and  early  to  transport  my 

carpet  sack  to  the  railway  station.    His  clothes  have 

suffered  still  more  during  the  night,  for  he  comes  to 

♦ 

me  now  dressed  only  in  a  small  rag  and  one  boot. 

At  last  we  are  off.  "Adios,  Americanos!"  the 
natives  cry ;  to  which  I  pleasantly  reply,  "  Adous ! 
and  long  may  it  be  before  you  have  a  chance  to  Do 
us  again." 


THE   ISTHMUS.  133 

The  cars  are  comfortable  on  the  Panama  railway, 
and  the  country  through  which  we  pass  is  very 
beautiful.  But  it  will  not  do  to  trust  it  much,  be- 
cause it  breeds  fevers  and  other  unpleasant  disor- 
ders, at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  Like  a  girl  we 
most  all  have  known,  the  Isthmus  is  fair  but  false. 

There  are  mud  huts  all  along  the  route,  and  half- 
naked  savages  gaze  patronizingly  upon  us  from  their 
door-ways.  An  elderly  lady  in  spectacles  appears 
to  be  much  scandalized  by  the  scant  dress  of  these 
people,  and  wants  to  know  why  the  Select  Men 
don't  put  a  stop  to  it.  From  this,  and  a  remark  she 
incidentally  makes  about  her  son  who  has  invented 
a  washing  machine  which  will  wash,  wring,  and  dry 
a  shirt  in  ten  minutes,  I  infer  that  she  is  from  the 
hills  of  Old  New  England,  like  the  Hutchinson  family. 


The  Central  American  is  lazy.  The  only  exercise 
he  ever  takes  is  to  occasionally  produce  a  Revolution. 
When  his  feet  begin  to  swell  and  there  are  premoni- 
tory symptoms  of  gout,  he  "  revolushes"  a  spell,  and 
then  serenely  returns  to  his  cigarette  and  hammock 
under  the  palm  trees. 


134  THE  ISTHMUS. 

These  Central  American  Republics  are  queer  con- 
cerns. I  do  not  of  course  precisely  know  what  a 
last  year's  calf's  ideas  of  immortal  glory  may  be,  but 
probably  they  are  about  as  lucid  as  those  of  a  Cen- 
tral American  in  regard  to  a  republican  form  of 
government. 

And  yet  I  am  told  they  are  a  kindly  people  in  the 
main.  I  never  met  but  one  of  them — a  Costa-Rican, 
on  board  the  Ariel.  He  lay  sick  with  fever,  and  I 
went  to  him  and  took  his  hot  hand  gently  in  mine. 
I  shall  never  forget  his  look  of  gratitude.  And  the 
next  day  he  borrowed  five  dollars  of  me,  shedding 
tears  as  he  put  it  in  his  pocket. 


At  Panama  we  lose  several  of  our  passengers,  and 
among  them  three  Peruvian  ladies,  who  go  to  Lima, 
the  city  of  volcanic  irruptions  and  veiled  black-eyed 
beauties. 

The  Senoritas  who  leave  us  at  Panama  are  splen- 
did creatures.  They  learned  me  Spanish,  and  in  the 
soft  moonlight  we  walked  on  deck  and  talked  of 
the  land  of  Pizarro.  (You  know  old  Piz.  conquered 
Peru  I  and  although  he  was  not  educated  at  West 


THE  ISTHMUS.  135 

Point,  he  had  still  some  military  talent.)  I  feel  ^s 
though  I  had  lost  all  my  relations,  including  my 
grandmother  and  the  cooking  stove,  when  these  gay 
young  Senoritas  go  away. 

They  do  not  go  to  Peru  on  a  Peruvian  bark,  but 
on  an  English  steamer. 


We  find  the  St.  Louis,  the  steamer  awaiting  us  at 
Panama,  a  cheerful  and  well-appointed  boat,  and 
commanded  by  Capt.  Hudson. 


m. 

MEXICO. 

We  make  Acapulco,  a  Mexican  coast  town  of  some 
importance,  in  a  few  days,  and  all  go  ashore. 


The  pretty  peasant  girls  peddle  necklaces  made 
of  shells,  and  oranges,  in  the  streets  of  Acapulco,  on 
steamer  days.  They  are  quite  naive  about  it.  Hand- 
ing you  a  necklace  they  will  say,  "  Me  give  you  pres- 
ent, Senor,"  and  then  retire  with  a  low  curtsey. 
Returning,  however,  in  a  few  moments,  they  say 
quite  sweetly,  "You  give  me  pres-en^,  Senor,  of 
quarter  dollar !"  which  you  at  once  do  unless  you 
have  a  heart  of  stone. 

Acapulco  was  shelled  by  the  French  a  year  or  so 
before  our  arrival  there,  and  they  effected  a  landing. 
But  the  gay  and  gallant  Mexicans  peppered  them 
so  persistently  and  effectually  from  the  mountains 
near  by  that  they  concluded  to  sell  out  and  leave. 


MEXICO.  '  137 

Napoleon  has  no  right  in  Mexico.  Mexico  may 
deserve  a  licking.  That  is  possible  enough.  Most 
people  do.  But  nobody  has  any  right  to  lick  Mex- 
ico except  the  United  States.  We  have  a  right,  I 
flatter  myself,  to  lick  this  entire  continent,  including 
ourselves,  any  time  we  want  to. 


The  signal  gun  is  fired  at  11,  and  we  go  off  to  the 
steamer  in  small  boats. 

In  our  boat  is  an  inebriated  United  States  official, 
who  flings  his  spectacles  overboard  and  sings  a  flip- 
pant and  absurd  song  about  his  grandmother's  spot- 
ted calf,  with  his  ri-fol-lol-tiddery-i-do.  After  which 
he  crumbles,  in  an  incomprehensible  manner,  into 
the  bottom  of  the  boat,  and  howls  dismally. 

We  reach  Manzanillo,  another  coast  place,  twenty- 
four  hours  after  leaving  Acapulco.  Manzanillo  is  a 
little  Mexican  village,  and  looked  very  wretched  in- 
deed, sweltering  away  there  on  the  hot  sands.  But 
it  is  a  port  of  some  importance  nevertheless,  because 
a  great  deal  of  merchandise  finds  its  way  to  the  in- 
terior from  there.  The  white  and  green  flag  of 
Mexico  floats  from  a  red  steam-tug  (the  navy  of 


138  MEXICO. 

Mexico,  by  the  way,  consists  of  two  tugs,  a  disabled 
raft,  and  a  basswood  life-preserver)  and  the  Captain 
of  the  Port  comes  off  to  us  in  his  small  boat,  climbs 
up  the  side  of  the  St.  Louis,  and  folds  the  healthy 
form  of  Captain  Hudson  to  his  breast.  There  is  no 
wharf  here,  and  we  have  to  anchor  off  the  town. 

There  was  a  wharf,  but  the  enterprising  Mexican 
peasantry,  who  subsist  by  poling  merchandise  ashore 
in  dug-outs,  indignantly  tore  it  up.  We  take  on  here 
some  young  Mexicans,  from  Colima,  who  are  going 
to  California.  They  are  of  the  better  class,  and  one 
young  man  (who  was  educated  in  Madrid)  speaks 
English  rather  better  than  I  write  it.  Be  careful  not 
to  admire  any  article  of  an  educated  Mexican's  dress, 
because  if  you  do  he  will  take  it  right  off  and  give 
it  to  you,  and  sometimes  this  might  be  awkward. 

I  said :     "  What  a  beautiful  cravat  you  wear !" 

"  It  is  yours !"  he  exclaimed,  quickly  unbuckling 
it ;  and  I  could  not  induce  him  to  take  it  back  again. 

I  am  glad  I  did  not  tell  his  sister,  who  was  with 
him  and  with  whom  I  was  lucky  enough  to  get  ac- 
quainted, what  a  beautiful  white  hand  she  had.  She 
might  have  given  it  to  me  on  the  spot ;  and  that,  as 


MEXICO.  139 

she  had  soft  eyes,  a  queenly  form,  and  a  half  million 
or  so  in  her  own  right,  would  have  made  me  feel  bad. 
Reports  reach  us  here  of  high-handed  robberies 
by  the  banditti  all  along  the  road  to  the  City  of 
Mexico.  They  steal  clothes  as  well  as  coin.  A  few 
days  since  the  mail  coach  entered  the  city  with  all 
the  passengers  stark-naked!  They  must  have  felt 
mortified. 


IV. 

.       CALIFORNIA. 

We  reach  San  Francisco  one  Sunday  afternoon. 
I  am  driven  to  the  Occidental  Hotel  by  a  kind-heart- 
ed hackman,  who  states  that  inasmuch  as  I  have 
come  out  there  to  amuse  people,  he  will  only  charge 
me  five  dollars.  I  pay  it  in  gold,  of  course,  because 
greenbacks  are  not  current  on  the  Pacific  coast. 

Many  of  the  citizens  of  San  Francisco  remember 
the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  jolly ;  and  the  theatres, 
the  circus,  the  minstrels,  and  the  music  halls  are  all 
in  full  blast  to-night. 

I  "  compromise"  and  go  to  the  Chinese  theatre, 
thinking  perhaps  there  can  be  no  great  harm  in  lis- 
tening to  worldly  sentiments  when  expressed  in  a 
language  I  don't  understand. 

The  Chinaman  at  the  door  takes  my  ticket  with 
the  remark,  "  Ki  hi-hi  ki  I  Shoolah !" 

And  I  tell  him  that  on  the  whole  I  think  he  is  right. 

The  Chinese  play  is  "  continued,"  like  a  Ledger 


CALIFORNIA.  141 

story,  from  night  to  night.  It  commences  with  the 
birth  of  the  hero  or  heroine,  which  interesting  event 
occurs  publicly  on  the  stage ;  and  then  follows  him 
or  her  down  to  the  grave,  where  it  cheerfully 
ends. 

Sometimes  a  Chinese  play  lasts  six  months.  The 
play  I  am  speaking  of  had  been  going  on  for  about 
two  months.  The  heroine  had  grown  up  into  woman- 
hood, and  was  on  the  point,  as  I  inferred,  of  being 
married  to  a  young  Chinaman  in  spangled  pantaloons 
and  a  long  black  tail.  The  bride's  father  comes  in 
with  his  arms  full  of  tea  chests,  and  bestows  them, 
with  his  blessing,  upon  the  happy  couple.  As  this 
play  is  to  run  four  months  longer,  however,  and  as 
my  time  is  limited,  I  go  away  at  the  close  of  the 
second  act,  while  the  orchestra  is  performing  an  over- 
ture on  gongs  and  one-stringed  fiddles. 

The  door-keeper  again  says,  "  Ki  hi-hi  ki !  Shoo- 
lah!"  addingy  this  time  however,  "Chow-wow." 
I  agree  with  him  in  regard  to  the  ki  hi  and  hi  ki, 
but  tell  him  I  don't  feel  altogether  certam  about  the 
chow-wow. 


142  CALIFORNIA. 

To  Stockton  from  San  Francisco. 

Stockton  is  a  beautiful  town,  that  has  ceased  to 
think  of  becoming  a  very  large  place,  and  has  quiet- 
ly settled  down  into  a  state  of  serene  prosperity.  I 
have  my  boots  repaired  here  by  an  artist  who  informs 
me  that  he  studied  in  the  penitentiary ;  and  I  visit 
the  lunatic  asylum,  where  I  encounter  a  vivacious 
maniac  who  invites  me  to  ride  in  a  chariot  drawn  by 
eight  lions  and  a  rhinoceros. 

John  Phoenix  was  once  stationed  at  Stockton,  and 
put  his  mother  aboard  the  San  Francisco  boat  one 
morning  with  the  sparkling  remark,  "  Dear  mother, 
be  virtuous  and  you  will  be  happy !" 


Forward  to  Sacramento— which  is  the  capital  of 
the  State,  and  a  very  nice  old  town. 

They  had  a  flood  here  some  years  ago,  during 
which  several  blocks  of  buildings  sailed  out  of  town 
and  have  never  been  heard  from  since.  A  Chinaman 
concluded  to  lealve  in  a  wash-tub,  and  actually  set 
sail  in  one  of  those  fragile  barks.  A  drowning  man 
hailed  him  piteously,  thus :  "  Throw  me  a  rope,  oh 
throw  me  a  rope !"     To  which  the  Chinaman  ex- 


CALIFORNIA.  143 

citedly  cried, "  No  have  got — how  can  do  ?"  and 
went  on,  on  with  the  howling  current.  He  was 
never  seen  more ;  but  a  few  weeks  after  his  tail  was 
found  by  some  Sabbath-school  children  in  the  north 
part  of  the  State. 


I  go  to  the  mountain  towns.  The  sensational 
mining  days  are  over,  but  I  find  the  people  jolly  and 
hospitable  nevertheless. 

At  Kevada  I  am  called  upon,  shortly  after  my 
arrival,  by  an  athletic  scarlet-faced  man,  who  politely 
says  his  name  is  Blaze. 

"  I  have  a  little  bill  against  you,  sir,"  he  observes. 

«A bill— what  for?" 

"For  drinks." 

"Drinks?" 

"  Yes,  sir— at  my  bar,  I  keep  the  well  known  and 
highly-respected  coffee-house  down  street." 

"But,  my  dear  sir,  there  is  a  mistake — ^I  never 
drank  at  your  bar  in  my  life." 

"  I  know  it,  sir.  That  isn't  the  point.  The  point 
is  this :  I  pay  out  money  for  good  liquors,  and  it  is 
people's  own  fault  if  they  don't  drink  them.    There 


144  CALIFORNIA. 

are  the  liquors — do  as  you  please  about  drinking  them, 
but  you  must  pay  for  them  !    Isn't  that  fair  ?" 

His  enormous  body  (which  Puck  wouldn't  put  a 
girdle  round  for  forty  dollars)  shook  gleefully  while 
I  read  this  eminently  original  bill. 

Years  ago  Mr.  Blaze  was  an  agent  of  the  Califor- 
nia Stage  Company.  There  was  a  formidable  and 
well  organized  opposition  to  the  California  Stage 
Company  at  that  time,  and  Mr.  Blaze  rendered  them 
such  signal  service  in  his  capacity  of  agent  that  they 
were  very  sorry  when  he  tendered  his  resignation. 

"  You  are  some  sixteen  hundred  dollars  behind  in 
your  accounts,  Mr.  Blaze,"  said  the  President,  "  but 
in  view  of  your  faithful  and  efficient  services,  we  shall 
throw  off  eight  hundred  dollars  of  that  amount." 

Mr.  Blaze  seemed  touched  by  this  generosity.  A 
tear  stood  in  his  eye  and  his  bosom  throbbed  audibly. 

"  You  wiU  throw  off  eight  hundred  dollars — you 
vsiUV*  he  at  last  cried,  seizing  the  President's  hand 
and  pressing  it  passionately  to  his  lips. 

"  I  will,"  returned  the  President. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Bl^e,  "  Pm  a  gentleman,  I 
am^  you  bet !     And  I  won't  allow  no  Stage  Company 


CALIFORNIA.  145 

to  surpass  me  in  politeness.  Pll  throw  off  the  other 
eight  hundred  dollars^  and  we^ll  call  it  square  !  No 
gratitude,  sir — no  thanks ;  it  is  my  duty." 

I  get  back  to  San  Francisco  in  a  few  weeks,  and 
am  to  start  home  Overland  from  here. 

The  distance  from  Sacramento  to  Atchison,  Kansas, 
by  the  Overland  stage  route,  is  twenty-two  hundred 
miles,  but  you  can  happily  accomplish  a  part  of  the 
journey  by  railroad.  The  Pacific  railroad  is  complet- 
ed twelve  miles  to  Folsom,  leaving  only  two  thousand 
and  one  hundred  and  eighty-eight  miles  to  go  by 
stage.  This  breaks  the  monotony;  but  as  it  is 
midwinter,  and  as  there  are  well  substantiated  reports 
of  Overland  passengers  freezing  to  death,  and  of  the 
Piute  savages  being  in  one  of  their  sprightly  moods 
when  they  scalp  people,  I  do  not — ^I  may  say  that 
I  do  not  leave  the  Capital  of  California  in  a  light- 
hearted  and  joyous  manner.  But "  leaves  have  their 
time  to  fall,"  and  I  have  my  time  to  leave,  which  is 
now. 

We  ride  all  day  and  all  night,  and  ascend  and 

descend  some  of  the  most  frightful  hills  I  ever  saw. 

7 


146  CALIFORNIA. 

We  make  Johnson's  Pass,  which  is  6752  feet  high, 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  go  down  the 
great  Kingsbury  grade  with  locked  wheels.  The 
driver,  with  whom  I  sit  outside,  informs  me,  as  we 
slowly  roll  down  this  fearful  mountain  road,  which 
looks  down  on  either  side  into  an  appalling  ravine, 
that  he  has  met  accidents  in  his  time,  and  cost  the 
California  stage  company  a  great  deal  of  money; 
"  because,"  he  says,  "juries  is  agin  us  on  principle, 
and  every  man  who  sues  us  is  sure  to  recover. 
But  it  will  never  be  so  agin,»not  with  me,  you 
bet." 

"How  is  that?"  I  said. 

It  was  frightfully  dark.  It  was  snowing  withal, 
and  notwithstanding  the  brakes  were  kept  hard 
down,  the  coach  slewed  wildly,  often  fairly  touching 
the  brink  of  the  black  precipice. 

"How  is  that?"  I  said. 

"  Why,  you  see,"  he  replied,  "  that  corpses  never 
sue  for  damages,  but  maimed  people  do.  And  the 
next  time  I  have  a  overturn  I  shall  go  round  and 
keerfully  examine  the  passengers.  Them  as  is  dead, 
I  shall  let  alone ;  but  them  as  is  mutilated  I  shall  fin- 


CALIFORNIA.  147 

ish  with  the  king-bolt !     Dead  folks  don't  sue.    They 
ain't  on  it." 
Thus  with  anecdote  did  this  driver  cheer  me  up. 


V. 

WASHOE. 

We  reach  Carson  City  about  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  It  is  the  capital  of  the  Silver-producing 
territory  of  Nevada. 

They  shoot  folks  here  somewhat,  and  the  law  is 
rather  partial  than  otherwise  to  first-class  murderers. 

I  visit  the  territorial  Prison,  and  the  Warden 
points  out  the  prominent  convicts  to  me,  thus : 

"This  man's  crime  was  horse-stealing.'  He  is 
here  for  life. 

"  This  man  is  in  for  murder.  He  is  here  for  three 
years." 

But  shooting  isn't  as  popular  in  Nevada  as  it 
once  was.  A  few  years  since  they  used  to  have  a 
dead  man  for  breakfast  every  morning.  A  reformed 
desperado  told  me  that  he  supposed  he  had  killed 
men  enough  to  stock  a  grave-yard.  "  A  feeling  of 
remorse,"  he  said, "  sometimes  comes  over  me !  But 
I'm  an  altered  man  now.    I  hain't  killed  a  man  for 


WASHOE.  149 

over  two  weeks !    What'll  yer  poison  yourself  with  ?" 
he  added,  dealing  a  resonant  blow  on  the  bar. 

There  used  to  live  near  Carson  City  a  notorious 
desperado,  who  never  visited  town  without  killing 
somebody.  He  would  call  for  Hquor  at  some  drink- 
ing-house,  and  if  anybody  declined  joining  him  he 
would  at  once  commence  shooting.  But  one  day  he 
shot  a  man  too  many.  Going  into  the  St.  Nicholas 
drinking-house  he  asked  the  company  present  to 
join  him  in  a  North  American  drink.  One  indivi- 
dual was  rash  enough  to  refiise.  With  a  look  of 
sorrow  rather  than  of  anger  the  desperado  revealed 
his  revolver,  and  sajd,  "  Good  God !  Must  I  kill  a 
man  every  time  I  come  to  Carson  ?"  and  so  saying 
he  fired  and  killed  the  individual  on  the  spot.  But 
this  was  the  last  murder  the  bloodthirsty  miscreant 
ever  committed,  for  the  aroused  citizens  pursued 
him  with  rifles  and  shot  him  down  in  his  own  door- 
yard. 


I  lecture  in  the  theatre  at  Carson,  which  opens 
out  of  a  drinking  and  gambling  house.  On  each  side 
of  the  door  where  my  ticket-taker  stands  there  are 


150  WASHOE. 

mont^-boards  and  sweat-cloths,  but  they  are  desert- 
ed to-night,  the  gamblers  being  evidently  of  a 
literary  turn  of  mind. 


Five  years  ago  there  was  only  a  pony-path  over 
the  precipitous  hills  on  which  now  stands  th^  mar- 
vellous city  of  Virginia,  with  its  population  of  twelve 
thousand  persons,  and  perhaps  more.  Virginia,  with 
its  stately  warehouses  and  gay  shops ;  its  splendid 
streets,  paved  with  silver  ore;  its  banking  houses 
and  faro-banks ;  its  attractive  coffee-houses  and  ele- 
gant theatre ;  its  music  halls  and  its  three  daily  news- 
papers. 

Virginia  is  very  wild,  but  I  believe  it  is  now  pretty 
generally  believed  that  a  mining  city  must  go  through 
with  a  certain  amount  of  unadulterated  cussedness 
before  it  can  settle  down  and  behave  itself  in  a  con- 
servative and  seemly  manner.  Virginia  has  grown 
up  in  the  heart  of  the  richest  silver  regions  in  the 
world,  the  El  Dorado  of  the  hour ;  and  of  the  im- 
mense numbers  who  are  swanning  thither  not  more 
than  half  carry  their  mother's  Bible  or  any  settled 
religion  with  them.    The  gambler  and  the  strange 


WASHOE.  161 

woman  as  naturally  seek  the  new  sensational  town 
as  ducks  take  to  that  element  which  is  so  useful  for 
making  cocktails  and  bathing  one's  feet ;  and  these 
people  make  the  new  town  rather  warm  for  awhile. 
But  by-and-by  the  earnest  and  honest  citizens  get 
tired  of  this  ungodly  nonsense  and  organize  a  Vigi- 
lance Committee,  which  hangs  the  more  vicious  of 
the  pestiferous  crowd  to  a  sour  apple-tree ;  and  then 
come  good  municipal  laws,  ministers,  meeting-houses, 
and  a  tolerably  sober  police  in  blue  coats  with  brass 
buttons.  About  five  thousand  able-bodied  men  are 
in  the  mines  underground,  here ;  some  as  far  down  as 
five  hundred  feet.  The  Gould  &  Curry  Mine  em- 
ploye nine  hundred  men,  and  annually  turns  out 
about  twenty  million  dollars'  worth  of  "  demnition 
gold  and  silver,"  as  Mr.  Mantalini  might  express  it 
— though  silver  chiefly. 

There  are  many  other  mines  here  and  at  Gold-Hill 
(another  startling  silver  city,  a  mile  from  here),  all 
of  which  do  nearly  as  well.  The  silver  is  melted 
down  into  bricks  of  the  size  of  common  house  bricks ; 
then  it  is  loaded  into  huge  wagons,  each  drawn  by 
eight  and  twelve  mules,  and  sent  off  to  San  Francis- 


152  WASHOE. 

CO.  To  a  young  person  fresh  from  the  land  of  green- 
backs this  careless  manner  of  carting  off  solid  silver 
is  rather  of  a  startler.  It  is  related  that  a  young 
man  who  came  Overland  from  New  Hampshire  a 
few  months  before  my  arrival  became  so  excited 
about  it  that  he  fell  in  a  fit,  with  the  name  of  his 
Uncle  Amos  on  his  lips !  The  hardy  miners  supposed 
he  wanted  his  uncle  there  to  see  the  great  sight,  and 
faint  with  him.  But  this  was  pure  conjecture,  after 
all. 


I  visit  several  of  the  adjacent  mining  towns,  but 
I  do  not  go  to  Aurora.  No,  I  think  not.  A  lecturer 
on  psychology  was  killed  there  the  other  night  by 
the  playful  discharge  of  a  horse-pistol  in  the  hands 
of  a  degenerate  and  intoxicated  Spaniard.  This  cir- 
cumstance, and  a  rumor  that  the  citizens  are  agin 
literature,  induce  me  to  go  back  to  Virginia. 


I  had  pointed  out  to  me  at  a  Restaurant  a  man 
who  had  killed  four  men  in  street  broils,  and  who 
had  that  very  day  cut  his  own  brother's  breast  open 
in  a  dangerous  manner  with  a  small  supper  knife. 


WASHOE.  153 

He  was  a  gentleman,  however.  I  heard  him  tell 
some  men  so.  He  admitted  it  himself.  And  I  don't 
think  he  would  lie  about  a  little  thing  like  that. 

The  theatre  at  Virginia  will  attract  the  attention 
of  the  stranger,  because  it  is  an  unusually  elegant 
affair  of  the  kind,  and  would  be  so  regarded  any- 
where. It  was  built,  of  course,  by  Mr.  Thomas  Ma- 
guire,  the  Napoleonic  manager  of  the  Pacific,  and 
who  has  built  over  twenty  theatres  in  his  time  and 
will  perhaps  build  as  many  more,  unless  somebody 
stops  him — which,  by  the  way,  will  not  be  a  remarka- 
bly easy  thing  to  do. 

As  soon  as  a  mining  camp  begins  to  assume  the 
proportions  of  a  city ;  at  about  the  time  the  whiskey- 
vender  draws  his  cork  or  the  gambler  spreads  his 
green  cloth,  Maguire  opens  a  theatre,  and  with  a 
hastily-organized  "  VigUance  Committee"  of  actors, 

commences  to  execute  Shakspeare. 
1* 


VI. 

MR.  PEPPER. 

My  arrival  at  Virginia  City  was  signalized  by  the 
following  incident : 

I  had  no  sooner  achieved  my  room  in  the  garret 
of  the  International  Hotel  than  I  was  called  upon  by 
an  intoxicated  man,  who  said  he  was  an  Editor. 
Knowing  how  rare  it  was  for  an  Editor  to  be  under 
the  blighting  influence  of  either  spirituous  or  malt 
liquors,  I  received  this  statement  doubtfully.  But 
I  said : 

"What  name?" 

"  Wait !"  he  said,  and  went  out. 

I  heard  him  pacing  unsteadily  up  and  down  the 
haU  outside. 

In  ten  minutes  he  returned,  and  said : 

"Pepper!" 

Pepper  was  indeed  his  name.  He  had  been  out 
to  see  if  he  could  remember  it ;  and  he  was  so  flushed 
with  his  success  that  he  repeated  it  joyously  several 


MR.    PEPPER.  155 

times,  and  then,  with  a  short  laugh,  he  went 
away. 

I  had  often  heard  of  a  man  being  "  so  drunk  that 
he  didn't  know  what  town  he  lived  in,"  but  here  was 
a  man  so  hideously  inebriated  that  he  didn't  know 
what  his  name  was. 

I  saw  him  no  more,  but  I  heard  from  him.  For 
I  he  published  a  notice  of  my  lecture,  in  which  he  said 
I  had  a  dissipated  air  ! 


vn. 

HORACE  GREELEY'S  RIDE  TO  PLACERVILLE, 
When  Mr.  Greeley  was  in  California  ovations 
awaited  him  at  every  town.  He  had  written  power- 
ful leaders  in  the  Tribune  in  favor  of  the  Pacific 
Railroad,  which  had  greatly  endeared  him  to  the 
citizens  of  the  Golden  State.  And  therefore  they 
made  much  of  him  when  he  went  to  see  them. 

At  one  town  the  enthusiastic  populace  tore  his 
celebrated  white  coat  to  pieces,  and  carried  the  pieces 
home  to  remember  him  by. 

The  citizens  of  Placerville  prepared  to  f  ^te  the 
great  journalist,  and  an  extra  coach,  with  extra  re- 
lays of  horses,  was  chartered  of  the  California  Stage 
Company  to  carry  him  from  Folsom  to  Placerville 
— distance,  forty  miles.  The  extra  was  in  some  way 
delayed,  and  did  not  leave  Folsom  untU  late  in  the 
afternoon.  Mr.  Greeley  was  to  be  f  dted  at  1  o'clock 
that  evening  by  the  citizens  of  Placerville,  and  it  was 
altogether  necessary  that  he  should  be  there  by  that 


(;         \'  V                               'i —  — ^-^r--, _-•- 

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lIonic«  Greeley's  gay  and  festive  adventures  on  the  overland  route  from  California. 


HORACE  Greeley's  ride  to  placerville.  157 

hour.  So  the  Stage  Company  said  to  Henry  Monk, 
the  driver  of  the  extra,  "  Henry,  this  great  man  must 
be  there  by  7  to-night."  And  Henry  answered, 
"  The  great  man  shall  be  there." 

The  roads  were  in  an  awful  state,  and  during  the 
first  few  miles  out  of  Folsom  slow  progress  was  made. 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Greeley,  "  are  you  aware  that  I 
must  be  at  Placerville  at  Y  o'clock  to-night  ?" 

"  I've  got  my  orders !"  laconically  returned  Hen- 
ry Monk. 

Still  the  coach  dragged  slowly  forward. 

"Sir,"  said  Mr.  Greeley,  "this  is  not  a  trifling 
matter.    I  must  be  there  at  7  !" 

Again  came  the  answer,  "  I've  got  my  orders !" 

But  the  speed  was  not  increased,  and  Mr.  Greeley 
chafed  away  another  half  hour ;  when,  as  he  was 
again  about  to  remonstrate  with  the  driver,  the  hor- 
ses suddenly  started  into  a  furious  run,  and  all  sorts 
•  of  encouraging  yells  filled  the  air  from  the  throat  of 
Henry  Monk. 

"  That  is  right,  my  good  fellow !"  cried  Mr.  Gree- 
ley. "I'll  give  you  ten  dollars  when  we  get  to 
Placerville.    Now  we  are  going !" 


158  HORACE  Greeley's  ride  to  placerville. 

They  were  indeed,  and  at  a  terrible  speed. 

Crack,  crack!  went  the  whip,  and  again  "that 
voice"  split  the  air.  "  Git  up !  Hi  yi !  G'long ! 
Tip— yip!" 

And  on  they  tore,  over  stones  and  ruts,  up  hill  and 
down,  at  a  rate  of  speed  never  before  achieved  by 
stage  horses. 

Mr.  Greeley,  who  had  been  bouncing  from  one  end 
of  the  coach  to  the  other  like  an  india-rubber  ball, 
managed  to  get  his  head  out  of  the  window,  when 
he  said : 

"  Do — on't — on't — on't  you — u — u  think  we — e — 
e — e  shall  get  there  by  seven  if  we  do — on't — on't 
go  so  fast  ?" 

"  Vve  got  my  orders !"  That  was  all  Henry  Monk 
said.     And  on  tore  the  coach. 

It  was  becoming  serious.  Already  the  journalist 
was  extremely  sore  from  the  terrible  jolting,  and 
again  his  head  "  might  have  been  seen"  at  the  win- 
dow. 

"  Sir,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  care — care — air,  if  we 
doTi't  get  there  at  seven !" 

"I  have  got  my  orders!"    Fresh  horses.    For- 


HORACE  Greeley's  ride  to  placerville.   159 

ward  again,  faster  than  before.     Over  rocks  and- 
stmnps,  on  one  of  which  the  coach  narrowly  escaped 
turning  a  summerset. 

*'  See  here !"  shrieked  Mr.  Greeley,  "  I  don't  care 
if  we  don't  get  there  at  all !" 

"  I've  got  my  orders !  I  work  for  the  Californy 
Stage  Company,  I  do.  That's  wot  I  worlc  for. 
They  said,  '  git  .this  man  through  by  seving.'  An' 
this  man's  goin'  through.  You  bet!  Gerlong! 
Whoo-ep!» 

Another  frightful  jolt,  and  Mr.  Greeley's  bald 
head  suddenly  found  its  way  through  the  roof  of 
the  coach,  amidst  the  crash  of  small  timbers  and  the 
ripping  of  strong  canvas. 

"  Stop,  you maniac !"  he  roared. 

Again  answered  Henry  Monk : 
"  I've  got  my  orders  \  Keep  your  seat,  Horace  /" 
At  Mud  Springs,  a  village  a  few  miles  from  Pla- 
cerville, they  met  a  large  delegation  of  the  citizens 
of  Placerville,  who  had  come  out  to  meet  the  cele- 
brated editor,  and  escort  him  into  town.  There  was 
a  military  company,  a  brass  band,  and  a  six-horse 
wagon-load  of  beautiful  damsels  in  milk-white  dress- 


160    HORACE  Greeley's  ride  to  placer ville. 

es,  representing  all  the  States  in  the  Union.  It  was 
nearly  dark  now,  but  the  delegation  were  amply 
provided  with  torches,  and  bonfires  blazed  all  along 
the  road  to  Placerville. 

The  citizens  met  the  coach  in  the  outskirts  of 
Mud  Springs,  and  Mr.  Mpnk  reined  in  his  foam-cov- 
ered steeds. 

"-Is  Mr.  Greeley  on  board  ?"  asked  the  chairman 
of  the  committee. 

"j5?e  was^  a  few  miles  hack!'''*  said  Mr.  Monk; 
"  yes,"  he  added,  after  looking  down  through  the 
hole  which  the  fearful  jolting  had  made  in  the  coach- 
roof—"  yes,  I  can  see  him  I    He  is  there !" 

"  Mr.  Greeley,"  said  the  Chairman  of  the  Commit- 
tee, presenting  himself  at  the  window  of  the  coach, 
"  Mr.  Greeley,  sir !     "We  are  come  to  most  cordially 

welcome  you,  sir — ' why,  God  bless  me,  sir,  you 

are  bleeding  at  the  nose !" 

"I've  got  my  orders!"  cried  Mr.  Monk.  "My 
orders  is  as  follers :  Git  him  there  by  seving !  It 
wants  a  quarter  to  seving.    Stand  out  of  the  way !" 

"  But,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  Committee-man,  seizing 
the  off  leader  by  the  reins — "  Mr.  Monk,  we  are  come 


HORACE  Greeley's  ride  to  placerville.    161 

to  escort  him  into  town !  Look  at  the  procession, 
sir,  and  the  brass  band,  and  the  people,  and  the 
young  women,  sir !" 

"J'^je  got  my  orders  V  screamed  Mr.  Monk. 
*'  My  orders  don't  say  nothin'  about  no  brass  bands 
and  young  women.  My  orders  says,  *  git  him  there 
by  seving !'  Let  go  them  lines !  Clear  the  way 
there !  Whoo-ep !  Keep  youk  seat,  Horace  !"  and 
the  coach  dashed  wildly  through  the  procession,  up- 
setting a  portion  of  the  brass  band,  and  violently 
grazing  the  wagon  which  contained  the  beautiful 
young  women  in  white.  / 

Years  hence  grey-haired  men,  who  were  little  boys 
in  this  procession,  will  tell  their  grandchildren  how 
this  stage  tore  through  Mud  Springs,  and  how  Ho- 
race Greeley's  bald  head  ever  and  anon  showed 
itself,  like  a  wild  apparition,  above  the  coach-roof. 

Mr.  Monk  was  on  time.  There  is  a  tradition  that 
Mr.  Greeley  was  very  indignant  for  awhile  ;  then  he 
laughed,  and  finally  presented  Mr.  Monk  with  a  bran- 
new  suit  of  clothes. 

Mr.  Monk  himself  is  still  in  the  employ  of  the  Cali- 
fornia Stage  Company,  and  is  rather  fond  of  relating 


162  HORACE  Greeley's  ride  to  placerville. 

a  story  that  has  made  him  famous  al  lover  the 
Pacific  coast.  But  he  says  he  yields  to  no  man  in 
his  admiration  for  Horace  Greeley. 


vni. 

TO  REESE  RIVER. 

I  LEAVE  Virginia  for  Great  Salt  Lake  City,  via  the 
Reese  River  Silver  Diggings. 

There  are  eight  passengers  oF  us  inside  the  coach 
— which,  by  the  way,  isn't  a  coach,  but  a  Concord 
covered  mud  wagon. 

Among  the  passengers  is  a  genial  man  of  the  name 
of  Ryder,  who  has  achieved  a  wide-spread  reputation 
as  a  strangler  of  unpleasant  bears  in  the  mountain 
fastnesses  of  California,  and  who  is  now  an  eminent 
Reese  River  miner. 

We  ride  night  and  day,  passing  through  the  land 
of  the  Piute  Indians.  Reports  reach  us  that  fifteen 
hundred  of  these  savages  are  on  the  Rampage,  under 
the  command  of  a  red  usurper  named  Buffalo-Jim, 
who  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  Jeff  Davis,  inasmuch  as 
he  and  his  followers  have  seceded  from  the  regular 
Piute  organization.  The  seceding  savages  have 
announced  that  they  shall  kill  and  scalp  all  pale-faces 


164  TO  REESE  RIVER. 

(which  makes  our  faces  pale,  I  reckon)  found  loose 
in  that  section.  We  find  the  guard  doubled  at  all 
the  stations  where  we  change  horses,  and  our  pass- 
eng'ers  nervously  examine  their  pistols  and  readjust 
the  long  glittering  knives  in  their  belts.  I  feel  in  my 
pockets  to  see  if  the  key  which  unlocks  the  carpet- 
bag containing  my  revolvers  is  all  right — ^for  I  had 
rather  brilliantly  locked  my  deadly  weapons  up  in 
that  article,  which  was  strapped  with  the  other  bag- 
gage to  the  rack  behind.  The  passengers  frown  on 
me  for  this  carelessness,  but  the  kind-hearted  Ryder 
gives  me  a  small  double-barrelled  gun,  with  which  I 
narrowly  escape  murdering  my  beloved  friend  Hing- 
ston  in  cold  blood.  I  am  not  used  to  guns  and  things, 
and  in  changing  the  position  of  this  weapon  I  pulled 
the  trigger  rather  harder  than  was  necessary. 


When  this  wicked  rebellion  first  broke  out  I  was 
among  the  first  to  stay  at  home — chiefly  because  of 
my  utter  ignorance  of  firearms.  I  should  be  valuable 
to  the  Army  as  a  Brigadier-General  only  so  far  as 
the  moral  influence  of  my  name  went. 


TO   REESE  RIVER.  165 

However,  we  pass  safely  through  the  land  of  the 
Piutes,  unmolested  by  Buffalo  James.  This  celebra- 
ted savage  can  read  and  write,  and  is  quite  an  orator, 
like  Metamora,  or  the  last  of  the  Wampanoags.  He 
went  on  to  Washington  a  few  years  ago  and  called 
Mr.  Buchanan  his  Great  Father,  and  the  members  of 
the  Cabinet  his  dear  Brothers.  They  gave  him  a 
great  many  blankets,  and  he  returned  to  his  beautiful 
hunting  grounds  and  went  to  killing  stage-drivers. 
He  made  such  a  fine  impression  upon  Mr.  Buchanan 
during  his  sojourn  in  Washington  that  that  states- 
man gave  a  young  English  tourist,  who  crossed  the 
plains  a  few  years  since,  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  him.  The  great  Indian  chief  read  the 
English  person's  letter  with  considerable  emo- 
tion, and  then  ordered  him  scalj3ed,  and  stole  his 
trunks. 

Mr.  Ryder  knows  me  only  as  "  Mr.  Brown,"  and 
he  refreshes  me  during  the  jouri^ey  by  quotations 
from  my  books  and  lectures. 

"  Never  seen  Ward  ?"  he  said. 

"  Oh  no." 

"  Ward  says  he  likes  little  girls,  but  he  likes  large 


166  TO   REESE  RIVER. 

girls  just  as  well.  Haw,  haw  haw  !  I  should  like 
to  see  the  d fool !" 

He  referred  to  me. 

He  even  woke  me  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
to  tell  me  one  of  Ward's  jokes. 


I  lecture  at  Big  Creek. 

Big  Creek  is  a  straggling,  wild  little  village  ;  and 
the  house  in  which  I  had  the  honor  of  speakmg  a 
piece  had  no  other  floor  than  the  bare  earth.  The 
roof  was  of  sage-brush.  At  one  end  of  the  building 
a  huge  wood  fire  blazed,  which,  with  half-a-dozen 
tallow-candles,  afforded  all  the  illumination  desired. 
The  lecturer  spoke  from  behind  the  drinking  bar. 
Behind  him  long  rows  of  decanters  glistened ;  above 
him  hung  pictures  of  race-horses  and  prize-fighters ; 
and  beside  him,  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and  wearing  a 
cheerful  smile,  stood  the  bar-keeper.  My  speeches 
at  the  Bar  before  this  had  been  of  an  elegant  charac- 
ter, perhaps,  but  quite  brief.  They  never  extended 
beyond  "  I  don't  care  if  I  do,"  "  N"o  sugar  in  mine," 
and  short  gems  of  a  like  character. 

I  had  a  good  audience  at  Big  Creek,  who  seemed 


TO  REESE   RIVER.  167 

to  be  pleased,  the  bar-keeper  especially ;  for  at  the 
close  of  any  "  point"  that  I  sought  to  make,  he  would 
deal  the  counter  a  vigorous  blow  with  his  fist  and 
exclaim,  "  Good  boy  from  the  lS[ew  England  States ! 
listen  to  William  W.  Shakspeare !" 

Back  to  Austin.  "We  lose  our  way,  and  hitching 
our  horses  to  a  tree,  go  in  search  of  some  human 
beings.  The  night  is  very  dark.  We  soon  stumble 
upon  a  camp-fire,  and  an  unpleasantly  modulated 
voice  asks  us  to  say  our  prayers,  adding  that  we  are 
on  the  point  of  going  to  Glory  with  our  boots  on. 
I  think  perhaps  there  may  be  some  truth  in  this,  as 
the  mouth  of  a  horse-pistol  almost  grazes  my  fore- 
head, while  immediately  behind  the  butt  of  that 
death-dealing  weapon  I  perceive  a  large  man  with 
black  whiskers.  Other  large  men  begin  to  assemble, 
also  with  horse-pistois.  Dr.  ffingston  hastily  explains, 
while  I  go  back  to  the  carriage  to  say  my  prayers, 
where  there  is  more  room.  The  men  were  miners 
on  a  prospecting  tour,  and  as  we  advanced  upon  them 
without  sending  them  word  they  took  us  for  highway 
robbers. 

I  must  not  forget  to  say  that  my  brave  and  kind- 


168  TO  REESE  RIVER. 

hearted  friend  Ryder  of  the  mail  coach,  who  had  so 
often  alluded  to  "  Ward"  in  our  ride  from  Virginia 
to  Austin,  was  among  my  hearers  at  Big  Creek.  He 
had  discovered  who  I  was,  and  informed  me  that  he 
had  debated  whether  to  wollop  me  or  give  me  some 
rich  gilver  claims. 


IX. 

GREAT  SALT  LAKE  CITY. 

How  was  I  to  be  greeted  by  the  Mormons  ?  That 
was  rather  an  exciting  question  with  me.  I  had  been 
told  on  the  plains  that  a  certain  humorous  sketch  of 
mine  (written  some  years  before)  had  greatly  incens- 
ed the  Saints,  and  a  copy  of  the  Sacramento  Union 
newspaper  had  a  few  days  before  fallen  into  my  hands 
in  which  a  Salt  Lake  correspondent  quite  clearly  in- 
timated that  my  reception  at  the  new  Zion  might 
be  unpleasantly  warm.  I  ate  my  dinner  moodily 
and  sent  out  for  some  cigars.  The  venerable  clerk 
brought  me  six.  They  cost  only  two  dollars.  They 
were  procured  at  a  store  near  by.  The  Salt  Lake 
House  sells  neither  cigars  nor  liquors. 

I  smoke  in  my  room,  having  no  heart  to  mingle 

with  the  people  in  the  office. 

.    Dr.  Kingston  "  thanks  God  he  never  wrote  against 

the  Mormons,"  and  goes  out  in  search  of  a  brother 

Englishman.    Comes  back  at  night  and  says  there 
8 


170  GREAT  SALT  LAKE  CITY. 

is  a  prejudice  against  me.  Advises  me  to  keep  in. 
Has  heard  that  the  Mormons  thirst  for  my  blood  and 
are  on  the  look-out  for  me. 

Under  these  cu-cumstances  I  keep  in. 

The  next  day  is  Sunday,  and  we  go  to  the  Taber- 
nacle, in  the  morning.    The  Tabernacle  is  located 

on  street,  and  is  a  long  rakish  building  of 

adobe,  capable  of  seating  some  twenty-five  hundred 
persons.  There  is  a  wide  platform  and  a  rather 
large  pulpit  at  one  end  of  the  building,  and  at  the 
other  end  is  another  platform  for  the  choir.  A 
young  Irishman  of  the  name  of  Sloan  preaches  a 
sensible  sort  of  discourse,  to  which  a  Presbyterian 
could  hardly  have  objected.  Last  night  this  same 
Mr.  Sloan  enacted  a  character  in  a  rollicking  Irish 
farce  at  the  theatre !  And  he  played  it  well,  I  was 
told ;  not  so  well,  of  course,  as  the  great  Dan  Bryant 
could :  but  I  fancy  he  was  more  at  home  in  the  Mor- 
mon pulpit  than  Daniel  would  have  been. 

The  Mormons,  by  the  way,  are  preeminently  an 
amusement-loving  people,  and  the  Elders  pray  for. 
the  success  of  their  theatre  with  as  much  earnestness 
as  they  pray  for  anything  else.    The  congregation 


GREAT  SALT  LAKE   CITY.  171 

doesn't  startle  us.  It  is  known,  I  fancy,  that  the 
heads  of  the  Church  are  to  be  absent  to-day,  and 
the  attendance  is  slim.  There  are  no  ravishingly 
beautiful  women  present,  and  no  positively  ugly 
ones.  The  men  are  fair  to  middling.  They  will 
never  be  slain  in  cold  blood  for  their  beauty,  nor 
shut  up  in  jail  for  their  homeliness. 

There  are  some  good  voices  in  the  choir  to-day, 
but  the  orchestral  accompaniment  is  unusually 
slight.  Sometimes  they  introduce  a  full  brass  and 
string  band  in  Church.  Brigham  Young  says  the 
devil  has  monopolized  the  good  music  long  enough, 
and  it  is  high  time  the  Lord  had  a  portion  of  it. 
Therefore  trombones  are  tooted  on  Sundays  in  Utah 
as  well  as  on  other  days  ;  and  there  are  some  splen- 
did musicians  there.  The  orchestra  in  Brigham 
Young's  theatre  is  quite  equal  to  any  in  Broadway. 
There  is  a  youth  in  Salt  Lake  City  (I  forget  his 
name)  who  plays  the  cornet  like  a  l^orth  American 
angel. 

Mr.  Stenhouse  relieves  me  of  any  anxiety  I  had 
felt  in  regard  to  having  my  swan-like  throat  cut  by 
the  Danites,  but  thinks  my  wholesale  denunciation 


172  GREAT  SALT   LAKE  CITY. 

of  a  people  I  had  never  seen  was  rather  hasty. 
The  following  is  the  paragraph  to  which  the  Saints 
objected.  It  occurs  in  an  "  Arteinus  Ward  "  paper 
on  Brigham  Young,  written  some  years  ago : 

"I  girded  up  my  Lions  and  fled  the  Seen.  I 
packt  up  my  duds  and  left  Salt  Lake,  which  is  a  2nd 
Soddum  and  Germorer,  inhabited  by  as  theavin'  & 
onprincipled  a  set  of  retchis  as  ever  drew  Breth  in 
eny  spot  on  the  Globe." 

I  had  forgotten  all  about  this,  and  as  Elder  Sten- 
house  read  it  to  me  "my  feelings  may  be  better 
imagined  than  described,"  to  use  language  I  think 
I  have  heard  before.  I  pleaded,  however,  that  it 
was  a  purely  burlesque  sketch,  and  that  this  strong 
paragraph  should  not  be  interpreted  literally  at  all. 
The  Elder  didn't  seem  to  see  it  in  that  light,  but  we 
parted  pleasantly. 


X. 

THE  MOUNTAIN  FEVER. 

I  go  back  to  my  hotel  and  go  to  bed,  and  I  do  not 
get  up  again  for  two  weary  weeks.  I  Have  the 
mountain  fever  (so  called  in  Utah,  though  it  closely 
resembles  the  old-style  typhus)  and  my  case  is  pro- 
nounced  dangerous.  I  don't  regard  it  so.  I  don't, 
in  fact,  regard  anything.  I  am  all  right,  myself. 
My  poor  Kingston  shakes  his  head  sadly,  and  Dr. 
Williamson,  from  Camp  Douglas,  pours  all  kinds  of 
bitter  stuft*  down  my  throat.  I  drink  his  health  in 
a  dose  of  the  cheerful  beverage  known  as  jalap,  and 
thresh  the  sheets  with  my  hot  hands.  I  address 
large  assemblages,  who  have  somehow  got  into  my 
room,  and  I  charge  Dr.  Williamson  with  the  murder 
of  Luce,  and  Mr.  Irwin,  the  actor,  with  the  murder 
of  Shakspeare.  I  have  a  lucid  spell  now  and  then, 
in  one  of  which  James  Townsend,  the  landlord, 
enters.  He  whispers,  but  I  hear  what  he  says  far 
too  distinctly :  "  This  man  can  have  anything  and 


174  THE   MOUNTAIN    FEVER. 

everything  he  wants ;  but  I'm  no  hand  for  a  sick 
room.    I  never  could  see  anybody  dle.^'* 

That  was  cheering,  I  thought.  The  noble  Califor- 
nian,  Jerome  Davis — he  of  the  celebrated  ranch — 
sticks  by  me  like  a  twin  brother,  although  I  fear 
that  in  my  hot  frenzy  I  more  than  once  anathema- 
tized his  kindly  eyes.  Nurses  and  watchers,  Gentile 
and  Mormon,  volunteer  their  services  in  hoops,  and 
rare  wines  are  sent  to  me  from  all  over  the  city, 
which  if  I  can't  drink,  the  venerable  and  excellent 
Thomas  can,  easy. 

I  lay  there  in  this  wild,  broiling  way  for  nearly 
two  weeks,  when  one  morning  I  woke  up  with  my 
head  clear  and  an  immense  plaster  on  my  stomach. 
The  plaster  had  operated.  I  was  so  raw  that  I 
could  by  no  means  say  to  Dr.  Williamson,  Well  done^ 
thou  good  and  faithful  servant.  I  wished  he  had 
lathered  me  before  he  plastered  me.  I  was  fearfully 
weak.  I  was  frightfully  thin.  With  either  one  of 
my  legs  you  could  have  cleaned  the  stem  of  a  meer- 
schaum pipe.  My  backbone  had  the  appearance  of 
a  clothes-line  with  a  quantity  of  English  walnuts 
strung  upon  it.     My  face  was  almost  gone.      My 


THE  MOUNTAIN  FEVER.  175 

nose  was  so  sharp  that  I  didn't  dare  stick  it  into 
other  people's  business  for  fear  it  would  stay  there. 
But  by  borrowing  my  agent's  overcoat  I  succeeded 
11  producing  a  shadow. 


I  have  been  looking  at  Zion  all  day,  and  my  feet 
are  sore  and  my  legs  are  weary.  I  go  back  to  the 
Salt  Lake  House  and  have  a  talk  with  landlord 
Townsend  about  the  State  of  Maine.  He  came  from 
that  bleak  region,  having  skinned  his  infantile  eyes 
in  York  County.  He  was  at  Nauvoo,  and  was  forced 
to  sell  out  his  entire  property  there  for  $50.  He 
has  thrived  in  Utah,  however,  and  is  much  thought 
of  by  the  Church.  He  is  an  Elder,  and  preaches 
occasionally.  He  has  only  two  wives.  I  hear  late- 
ly that  he  has  sold  his  property  for  $25,000  to  Brig- 
ham  Young,  and  gone  to  England  to  make  converts. 
How  impressive  he  may  be  as  an  expounder  of  the 
Mormon  gospel,  I  don't  know.  His  beef-steaks  and 
chicken-pies,  however,  were  first-rate.  James  and 
I  talk  about  Maine,  and  cordially  agree  that  so  far 
as  pine  boards  and  horse-mackerel  are  concerned  it 
is  equalled  by  few  and  excelled  by  none.    There  is 


176  THE  MOUNTAIN  FEVER. 

no  place  like  home,  as  Clara,  the  Maid  of  Milan, 
very  justly  observes ;  and  while  J.  Townsend  would 
be  unhappy  in  Maine,  his  heart  evidently  beats  back 
there  now  and  then. 

I  heard  the  love  of  home  oddly  illustrated  in  Ore- 
gon, one  night,  in  a  comitry  bar-room.  Some  well- 
dressed  men,  in  a  state  of  strong  drink,  were  boast- 
ing of  their  respective  places  of  nativity. 

"I,"  said  one,  "was  born  in  Mississippi,  where 
the  sun  ever  ehines  and  the  magnolias  bloom  all  the 
happy  year  round." 

"  And  I,"  said  another,  "  was  bom  in  Kentucky — 
Kentucky,  the  home  of  impassioned  oratory:  the 
home  of  Clay :  the  State  of  splendid  women,  of  gal- 
lant men !" 

"  And  I,"  said  another,  "  was  bom  in  Virginia,  the 
home  of  Washington :  the  birthplace  of  statesmen : 
the  State  of  chivalric  deeds  and  noble  hospitality !" 

"And  I,"  said  a  yellow-haired  and  sallow-faced 
man,  who  was  not  of  this  party  at  all,  and  who  had 
been  quietly  smoking  a  short  black  pipe  by  the  fire 
during  their  magnificent  conversation — "  and  T  was 
born  in  the  garden  spot  of  America." 


THE  MOUNTAIN  FEVER.  177 

"  Where  is  that  ?"  they  said. 

^'- Skeouhegan^  Maine P'*  he  replied;  "kin  I  sell 

you  a  razor  strop  ?" 

8* 


XL 

.  "  I  AM  HERE." 

There  is  no  mistake  about  that,  and  there  is  a 
good  prospect  of  my  staying  here  for  some  time  to 
come.  The  snow  is  deep  on  the  gromid,  and  more  is 
falling. 

The  Doctor  looks  glum,  and  speaks  of  his  ill- 
starred  countryman  Sir  J.  Franklin,  who  went  to 
the  Arctic  once  too  much. 

"A  good  thing  happened  down  here  the  other 
day,"  said  a  miner  from  New  Hampshire  to  me. 
"  A  man  of  Boston  dressin'  went  through  there,  and 
at  one  of  the  stations  there  wasn't  any  mules.  Says 
the  man  who  was  fixed  out  to  kill  in  his  Boston  dres- 
sin',  'Where's  them  mules?'  Says  the  driver, 
*  Them  mules  is  into  the  sage-brush.  You  go  catch 
'era — that's  wot  you  do.'  Says  the  man  of  Boston 
dressin',  *0h  no  I'  Says  the  driver,  'Oh  yes!'  and 
he  took  his  long  coach- whip  and  licked  the  man  of 


The  Boston  man  gets  Into  a  state  of  excitement  with  the  raule-driver.    Ste  page  178. 


179 

Boston  dressin'  till  he  went  and  caught  them  mules. 
How  does  that  strike  you  as  a  joke  ?" 

It  didn't  strike  me  as  much  of  a  joke  to  pay  a 
hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars  in  gold  fare,  and 
then  be  horse-whipped  by  stage-drivers,  for  declin- 
ing to  chase  mules.  But  people's  ideas  of  humor  dif- 
fer, just  as  people's  ideas  differ  in  regard  to  shrewd- 
ness— which  "  reminds  me  of  a  little  story."  Sit- 
ting in  a  "New  England  country  store  one  day  I  over- 
heard the  following  dialogue  between  two  brothers : 

"  Say,  Bill,  wot  you  done  with  that  air  sorrel  mare 
of  yourn  ?'* 

"  Sold  her,"  said  William,  with  a  smile  of  satis- 
faction. 

"Wot  'd  you  git?" 

"  Hund'd  an'  fifty  dollars,  cash  deown  !" 

"Show!  Hund'd  an'  fifty  for  that  kickin'  spa- 
vin'd  critter  ?    Who'd  you  sell  her  to  ?" 

"Sold  her  to  mother!" 

"  Wot !"  exclaimed  brother  N"o.  1,  "  did  you  rail- 
ly  sell  that  kickin'  spavin'd  critter  to  mother? 
Wall,  you  air  a  shrewd  one !" 


180 

A  Sensation-Arrival  by  the  Overland  Stage  of  two 
Missouri  girls,  who  have  come  unescorted  all  the 
way  through.  They  are  going  to  Nevada  territory 
to  join  their  father.  They  are  pretty,  but,  merciful 
heavens!  how  they  throw  the  meat  and  potatoes 
down  their  throats.  "  This  is  the  first  Squar'  meal 
we've  had  since  we  left  Rocky  Thompson's,"  said 
the  eldest.    Then  addressing  herself  to  me,  she  said : 

"  Air  you  the  literary  man  ?" 

I  politely  replied  that  I  was  one  of  "  them  fellers." 

"  Wall,  don't  make  fun  of  our  clothes  in  the  papers. 
"We  air  goin'  right  straight  through  in  these  here 
clothes,  we  air !  We  ain't  goin'  to  rag  out  till  we  git 
to  Nevady  I    Pass  them  sassiges  I" 


xn. 

BRIGHAM  YOUNG. 
Brigham  Yotjng  sends  word  I  may  see  him  to- 
morrow.    So  I  go  to  bed  singing  the  popular  Mor- 
mon hymn : 

Let  the  chorus  still  be  sung, 

Long  Hve  Brother  Brigham  Young, 

And  blessed  be  the  vale  of  Deserdt — r^t — r^t ! 

And  blessed  be  the  vale  of  Deser^t. 

At  two  o'clock  the  next  afternoon  Mr.  Hiram  B. 
Clawson,  Brigham  Young's  son-in-law  and  chief  busi- 
ness manager,  calls  forme  with  the  Prophet's  private 
sleigh,  and  we  start  for  that  distinguished  person's 
block. 

I  am  shown  into  the  Prophet's  chief  office.  He 
comes  forward,  greets  me  cordially,  and  introduces 
me  to  several  influential  Mormons  who  are  present. 

Brigham  Young  is  62  years  old,  of  medium 
height,   and  with   sandy  hair  and  whiskers.     An 


182  BRIGHAM  YOUNG. 

active,  iron  man,  with  a  clear  sharp  eye.  A  man  of 
consummate  shrewdness — of  great  executive  ability. 
He  was  born  in  the  State  of  Vermont,  and  so  by 
the  way  was  Heber  C.  Kimball,  who  will  wear  the 
Mormon  Belt  when  Brigham  leaves  the  ring. 

Brigham  Young  is  a  man  of  great  natural  ability. 
If  you  ask  me.  How  pious  is  he  ?  I  treat  it  as  a  conun- 
drum, and  give  it  up.  Personally  he  treated  me 
with  marked  kindness  throughout  my  sojourn  in 
Utah. 

His  power  in  Utah  is  quite  as  absolute  as  that  of 
any  living  sovereign,  yet  he  uses  it  with  such  con- 
summate shrewdness  that  his  people  are  passionate- 
ly devoted  to  him. 

He  was  an  Elder  at  the  first  formal  Mormon 
"  stake''  in  this  country,  at  Kirtland,  Ohio,  and  went 
to  Nauvoo  with  Joseph  Smith.  That  distinguished 
Mormon  handed  his  mantle  and  the  Prophet  business 
over  to  Brigham  when  he  died  at  Nauvoo. 

Smith  did  a  more  flourishing  business  in  the  Pro- 
phet line  than  B.  Y.  does.  Smith  used  to  have  his 
little  Revelation  ahnost  every  day — sometimes  two 
before  dinner.    B.  Y.  only  takes  one  once  in  awhile. 


BRIGHAM  YOUNG.  '    183 

The  gateway  of  his  block  is  surmounted  by  a 
brass  American  eagle,  and  they  say  ("they  say" 
here  means  anti-Mormons)  that  he  receives  his  spiri- 
tual dispatches  through  this  piece  of  patriotic  poultry. 
They  also  say  that  he  receives  revelations  from  a 
stuffed  white  calf  that  is  trimmed  with  red  ribbons 
and  kept  in  an  iron  box.  I  don't  suppose  these  things 
are  true.  Rumor  says  that  when  the  Lion  House 
was  ready  to  be  shingled,  Brigham  received  a  mes- 
sage from  the  Lord  stating  that  the  carpenters  must 
all  take  hold  and  shingle  it  and  not  charge  a  red 
cent  for  their  services.  Such  carpenters  as  refused 
to  shingle  would  go  to  hell,  and  no  postponement  on 
account  of  the  weather.  They  say  that  Brigham, 
whenever  a  train  of  emigrants  arrives  in  Salt  Lake 
City,  orders  all  the  women  to  march  up  and  down 
before  his  block,  while  he  stands  on  the  portico  of 
the  Lion  House  and  gobbles  up  the  prettiest  ones. 

He  is  an  immensely  wealthy  man.  His  wealth  is 
variously  estimated  at  from  ten  to  twenty  millions 
of  dollars.  He  owns  saw  mills,  grist  mills,  woollen 
factories,  brass  and  iron  foundries,  farms,  brick- yards, 
&c.,  and  superintends  them  all  in  person.    A  man 


184:  BRIGHAM  YOUNG. 

in  Utah  individually  owns  what  he  grows  and  makes 
with  the  exception  of  a  one  tenth  part :  that  must 
go  to  the  Church ;  and  Brigham  Young,  as  the 
first  President,  is  the  Church's  treasurer.  Gentiles 
of  course  say  that  he  abuses  this  blind  confidence  of 
his  people,  and  speculates  with  their  money,  and  ab- 
sorbs the  interest  if  he  doesn't  the  principal.  The 
Mormons  deny  this,  and  say  that  whatever  of  their 
money  he  does  use  is  for  the  good  of  the  Church ; 
that  he  defrays  the  expenses  of  emigrants  from  far 
over  the  seas ;  that  he  is  foremost  in  all  local  enter- 
prises tending  to  develop  the  resources  of  the  terri- 
tory, and  that,  in  short,  he  is  incapable  of  wrong  in 
any  shape. 

IsTobody  seems  to  know  how  many  wives  Brigham 
Young  has.  Some  set  the  number  as  high  as  eighty, 
in  which  case  his  children  must  be  too  numerous  to 
mention.  Each  wife  has  a  room  to  herself.  These 
rooms  are  large  and  airy,  and  I  suppose  they  are 
supplied  with  all  the  modern  improvements.  But 
never  having  been  invited  to  visit  them  I  can't  speak 
very  definitely  about  this.  When  I  left  the  Prophet 
he  shook  me  cordially  by  the  hand,  and  invited  me 


BEIGHAM  YOUNG.  185 

to  call  again.  This  was  flattering,  because  if  he  dis- 
likes a  man  at  the  first  interview  he  never  sees  him 
again.  He  made  no  allusion  to  the  "  letter"  I  had 
written  about  his  community.  Outside  guards  were 
pacing  up  and  down  before  the  gateway,  but  they 
smiled  upon  me  sweetly.  The  veranda  was  crowded 
with  Gentile  miners,  who  seemed  to  be  surprised 
that  I  didn't  return  in  a  wooden  overcoat,  with  my 
throat  neatly  laid  open  from  ear  to  ear. 


I  go  to  the  Theatre  to-night.  The  play  is  Othel- 
lo. This  is  a  really  fine  play,  and  was  a  favorite  of 
G.  Washington,  the  father  of  his  country.  On  this 
stage,  as  upon  all  other  stages,  the  good  old  conven- 
tionalities are  strictly  adhered  to.  The  actors  cross 
each  other  at  oblique  angles  from  L.  XJ.  E.  to  R.  I. 
E.,  on  the  slightest  provocation.  Othello  howls, 
lago  scowls,  and  the  boys  all  laugh  when  Koderigo 
dies.  I  stay  to  see  charming  Mrs.'  Irwin  (Desdemo- 
na)  die,  which  she  does  very  sweetly. 


I  was  an  actor  once,  myself.    I  supported  Edwin 
Forrest  at  a  theatre  in  Philadelphia.     I  played  a  pan- 


186  BRIGHAM  YOUNG. 

tomimic  part.  I  removed  the  chairs  between  scenes, 
and  I  did  it  so  neatly  that  Mr.  F.  said  I  would  make 
a  cabinet-maker  if  I  "  applied  "  myself. 


The  parquette  of  the  theatre  is  occupied  exclu- 
sively by  the  Mormons  and  their  wives,  and  children. 
They  wouldn't  let  a  Gentile  in  there  any  more  than 
they  would  a  serpent.  In  the  side  seats  are  those 
of  President  Young's  wives  who  go  to  the  play,  and 
a  large  and  varied  assortment  of  children.  It  is  an 
odd  sight  to  see  a  jovial  old  Mormon  file  down  the 
parquette  aisle  with  ten  or  twenty  robust  wives  at 
his  heels.  Yet  this  spectacle  may  be  witnessed 
every  night  the  theatre  is  opened.  The  dress  circle 
is  chiefly  occupied  by  the  oflicers  from  Camp  Doug- 
las and  the  Gentile  Merchants.  The  upper  circles 
are  filled  by  the  private  soldiers  and  Mormon  boys. 
I  feel  bound  to  say  that  a  Mormon  audience  is  quite 
as  appreciative  as  any  other  kind  of  an  audience. 
They  prefer  comedy  to  tragedy.  Sentimental  plays, 
for  obvious  reasons,  are  unpopular  with  them.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  when  C.  Melnotte,  in  the 
Lady  of  Lyons,  comes  home  from  the  wars,  he  folds 


BRIGHAM  YOUNG.  187 

Pauline  to  his  heaving  heart  and  makes  several  re- 
marks of  an  impassioned  and  slobbering  character. 
One  night  when  the  Lady  of  Lyons  was  produced 
here,  an  aged  Mormon  arose  and  went  out  with  his 
twenty-four  wives,  angrily  stating  that  he  wouldn't 
sit  and  see  a  play  where  a  man  made  such  a  cussed 
fuss  over  one  woman.  The  prices  of  the  theatre 
are :  Parquette,  75  cents ;  dress  circle,  $1 ;  1st  upper 
circle,  50 ;  2nd  and  3rd  upper  circles,  2l5.  In  an 
audience  of  two  thousand  persons  (and  there  are  al- 
most always  that  number  present)  probably  a  thou- 
sand will  pay  in.  cash,  and  the  other  thousand  in  grain 
and  a  variety  of  articles ;  all  which  will  command 
money,  however. 

Brigham  Young  usually  sits  in  the  middle  of  the 
parquette,  in  a  rocking-chair,  and  with  his  hat  on. 
He  does  not  escort  his  wives  to  the  theatre.  They 
go  alone.  When  the  play  drags  he  either  falls  into  a 
tranquil  sleep  or  walks  out.  He  wears  in  winter 
time  a  green  wrapper,  and  his  hat  is  the  style  intro- 
duced into  this  country  by  Louis  Kossuth,  Esq.,  the 
liberator  of  Hungaria.  (I  invested  a  dollar  in  the 
liberty  of  Hungaria  nearly  fifteen  years  ago.) 


xni. 

A  PIECE  IS  SPOKEN. 

A  piece  hath  its  victories  no  less  than  war. 

"  Blessed  are  the  Piece-makers."  That  is  Scripture. 

The  night  of  the  "  comic  oration "  is  come,  and 
the  speaker  is  arranging  his  back  hair  in  the  star- 
dressing-room  of  the  theatre.  The  orchestra  is  play- 
ing selections  from  the  Gentile  opera  of  Un  Ballo  in 
Maschera,  and  the  house  is  full.  Mr.  John  F.  Caine, 
the  excellent  stage-manager,  has  given  me  an  ele- 
gant drawing-room  scene  in  which  to  speak  my  lit- 
tle piece. 

[In  Iowa,  I  once  lectured  in  a  theatre,  and  the 
heartless  manager  gave  me  a  Dungeon  scene.] 

The  curtain  goes  up,  and  I  stand  before  a  Salt 
Lake  of  upturned  faces. 

I  can  only  say  that  I  was  never  listened  to  more 
attentively  and  kindly  in  my  life  than  I  was  by  this 
audience  of  Mormons. 

Among  my  receipts  at  the  box-office  this  night 
were — 


A  PIECE   IS  SPOKEN.  189. 


20  bushels  of  wheat. 

5          " 

"    corn. 

4 

"    potatoes. 

2          " 

"    oats. 

4         " 

"    salt. 

2  hams. 

1  live  pig  (Dr.  Hingston  chained  him  in  the  box- 
office). 

1  wolf-skin. 

5  pounds  honey  in  the  comb. 

16  strings  of  sausages — 2  pounds  to  the  string. 

1  cat-skin. 

1  chum  (two  families  went  in  on  this ;  it  is  an  in- 
genious chum,  and  fetches  butter  in  five  minutes  by- 
rapid  grinding). 

1  set  children's  under-garments,  embroidered. 

1  firkiQ  of  butter. 

1  keg  of  apple-sauce. 

One  man  undertook  to  pass  a  dog  (a  cross  be- 
tween a  Scotch  terrier  and  a  Welsh  rabbit)  at  the 
box-office,  and  another  presented  a  German-silver 
coffin-plate,  but  the  Doctor  very  justly  repulsed  them 
both. 


XIV. 

THE  BALL. 

The  Mormons  are  fond  of  dancing.  Brighara  and 
Heber  C.  dance.  So  do  Daniel  H.  Wells  and  the 
other  heads  of  the  Church.  Balls  are  opened  with 
prayer,  and  when  they  break  up  a  benediction  is 
pronounced. 

I  am  invited  to  a  ball  at  Social  Hall,  and  am 
escorted  thither  by  Brothers  Stenhouse  and  Claw- 
son. 

Social  Hall  is  a  spacious  and  cheerfUl  room.  The 
motto  of  "  Our  Mountain  Home"  in  brilliant  ever- 
green capitals  adorns  one  end  of  the  hall,  while  at 
the  other  a  platform  is  erected  for  the  musicians, 
behind  whom  there  is  room  for  those  who  don't 
dance,  to  sit  and  look  at  the  festivities.  Brother 
Stenhouse,  at  the  request  of  President  Young,  for- 
mally introduces  me  to  company  from  the  platform. 
There  is  a  splendor  of  costumery  about  the  dancers 
I  had  not  expected  to  see.      Quadrilles  only  are 


THE  BALL.  191 

danced.  The  Mazourka  is  considered  sinful.  Even 
the  old-tiine  round  waltz  is  tabooed. 

I  dance. 

The  Saints  address  each  other  here,  as  elsewhere, 
as  Brother  and  Sister.  **  This  way,  Sister !"  "Where 
are  you  going,  brother?"  etc.  etc.  I  am  called 
Brother  Ward.  This  pleases  me,  and  I  dance  with 
renewed  vigor. 

The  Prophet  has  some  very  charming  daughters, 
several  of  whom  are  present  to-night. 

I  was  told  they  spoke  French  and  Spanish. 

The  Prophet  is  more  industrious  than  graceful  as 
a  dancer.  He  exhibits,  however,  a  spryness  of  legs 
quite  remarkable  in  a  man  at  his  time  of  life.  I 
didn't  see  Heber  C.  Kimball  on  the  floor.  I  am 
told  he  is  a  loose  and  reckless  dancer,  and  that  many 
a  lily-white  toe  has  felt  the  crushing  weight  of  his 
cowhide  monitors. 

The  old*  gentleman  is  present,  however,  with  a 
large  number  of  wives.  It  is  said  he  calls  them  his 
"heifers." 

"  Ain't  you  goin'  to  dance  with  some  of  my  wives  ?" 
said  a  Mormon  to  me. 


192  THE    BALL. 

These  things  make  a  Mormon  ball  more  spicy  than 
a  Gentile  one. 

The  supper  is  sumptuous,  and  bear  and  beaver 
adorn  the  bill  of  fare. 

I  go  away  at  the  early  hour  of  two  in  the  morning. 
The  moon  is  shining  brightly  on  the  snow-covered 
streets.  The  lamps  are  out,  and  the  town  is  still  as 
a  graveyard. 


XV. 

PHELPS'S  ALMANAC. 

There  is  an  eccentric  Mormon  at  Salt  Lake  City 
of  the  name  of  W.  W.  Phelps.  He  is  from  Cortland, 
State  of  New  York,  and  has  been  a  Saint  for  a  good 
many  years.  It  is  said  he  enacts  the  character  of 
the  Devil,  with  a  pea-green  tail,  in  the  Mormon  ini- 
tiation ceremonies.  He  also  publishes  an  Almanac, 
in  which  he  blends  astronomy  with  short  moral 
essays,  and  suggestions  in  regard  to  the  proper 
management  of  hens.  He  also  contributes  a  poem 
entitled  "  The  Tombs"  to  his  Almanac  for  the  current 
year,  from  which  I  quote  the  last  verse : 
"  Choose  ye ;  to  rest  with  stately  grooms ; 

Just  such  a  place  there  is  for  sleeping ; 

Where  everything,  in  common  keeping, 

Is  free  from  want  and  worth  and  weeping ; 

There  folly's  harvest  is  a  reaping, 
Down  in  the  grave,  among  the  tombs." 

Now,  I  know  that  poets  and  tin-pedlars  are  "  li- 
censed," but  why  does  W.  W.  P.  advise  us  to  sleep 
9 


194:  PHELP'S  ALMANAC. 

in  the  bam  with  the  ostlers  ?  These  are  the  most 
dismal  Tombs  on  record,  not  excepting  the  Tomb 
of  the  Capulets,  the  Tombs  of  New  York,  or  the 
Toombs  of  Georgia. 

Under  the  head  of  "  Old  Sayings,"  Mr.  P.  pub- 
lishes the  following.  There  is  a  modesty  about  the 
last  "  saying"  which  will  be  pretty  apt  to  strike  the 
reader : 

•*  The  Lord  does  good  and  Satan  evil,  said  Moses. 

Sun  and  Moon,  see  me  conquer,  said  Joshua. 

Virtue  exalts  a  woman,  said  David. 

Fools  and  folly  frolic,  said  Solomon. 

Judgments  belong  to  Grod,  said  Isaiah. 

The  path  of  the  just  is  plain,  said  Jeremiah. 

The  soul  that  sins  dies,  said  EzekieL 

The  wicked  do  wicked,  said  Daniel. 

Ephraim  fled  and  hid,  said  Hosea. 

The  Grentiles  war  and  waste,  said  Joel. 

The  second  reign  is  peace  and  plenty,  said  Amos. 

Zion  is  the  house  of  the  Gods,  said  Obadiah, 

A  fish  saved  me,  said  Jonah. 

Our  Lion  will  be  terrible,  said  Micah. 

Doctor,  cure  yourself,  said  the  Saviour. 

Live  to  live  again,  said  W.  W.  Phelps." 


XVI. 

HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD! 

Time,  Wednesday  afternoon,  February  10.  The 
Overland  Stage,  Mr.  William  Glover  on  the  box, 
stands  before  the  veranda  of  the  Salt  Lake  House, 
The  genial  IS'at  Stein  is  arranging  the  way-bill. 
Our  baggage  (the  overland  passenger  is  only  alloW' 
ed  twenty-five  pounds)  is  being  put  aboard,  and  we 
are  shaking  hands,  at  a  rate  altogether  furious,  with 
Mormon  and  Gentile.  Among  the  former  are  bro^ 
thers  Stenhouse,  Caine,  Clawson  and  Townsend ;  and 
among  the  latter  are  Harry  Riccard,  the  big-heart- 
ed English  mountaineer  (though  once  he  wore  white 
kids  and  swallow-tails  in  Regent  street,  and  in  his 
boyhood  went  to  school  to  Miss  Edgeworth,  the 
novelist) ;  the  daring  explorer  Rood,  from  Wis- 
consin ;  the  Rev.  James  McCormick,  missionary  who 
distributes  pasteboard  tracts  among  the  Bannock 
miners ;  and  the  pleasing  child  of  gore,  Capt.  D.  B. 
Stover,  of  the  Commissary  department. 


196  HURRAH  FOR  THE   ROAD  ! 

We  go  away  on  wheels,  but  the  deep  snow  com- 
pels us  to  substitute  runners  twelve  miles  out. 

There  are  four  passengers  of  us.  We  pierce  the 
Wahsatch  mountains  by  Parley's  canon. 

A  snow  storm  overtakes  us  as  the  night  thickens, 
and  the  wind  shrieks  like  a  brigade  of  strong-lung- 
ed maniacs.  Never  mind.  We  are  well  covered 
up— our  cigars  are  good — I  have  on  deerskin  panta- 
loons, a  deerskin  overcoat,  a  beaver  cap  and  buffalo 
overshoes;  and  so,  as  I  tersely  observed  before, 
Never  mind.  Let  us  laugh  the  winds  to  scorn,  brave 
boys!  But  why  is  William  Glover,  driver,  lying 
flat  on  his  back  by  the  roadside,  and  why  am  I  turn- 
ing a  handspring  in  the  road,  and  why  are  the 
horses  tearing  wildly  down  the  Wahsatch  moun- 
tains? It  is  because  William  Glover  has  been 
thrown  from  his  seat,  &  the  horses  are  running 
away.  I  see  him  fall  off,  and  it  occurs  to  me  that  I 
had  better  get  out.  In  doing  so,  such  is  the  velo- 
city of  the  sleigh,  I  turn  a  handspring. 

Far  ahead  I  hear  the  runners  clash  with  the  rocks 
and  I  see  Dr.  Hingston's  lantern  (he  always  would 
have  a  lantern)  bobbing  about  like  the  binnacle 


HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD  I  197 

light  of  an  oyster  sloop,  very  loose  in  a  chopping 
sea.  Therefore  I  do  not  laugh  the  winds  to  acorn 
as  much  as  I  did,  brave  boys. 

William  G.  is  not  hurt,  and  together  we  trudge 
on  after  the  runaways  in  the  hope  of  overtaking 
them,  which  we  do  some  two  miles  off.  They  are 
in  a  snowbank,  and  "  nobody  hurt." 

We  are  soon  on  the  road  again,  all  serene; 
though  I  believe  the  doctor  did  observe  that  such  a 
thing  could  not  have  occurred  under  a  monarchical 
form  of  government. 

We  reach  Weber  station,  thirty  miles  from  Salt 
Lake  City,  and  wildly  situated  at  the  foot  of  the 
grand  Echo  Canon,  at  3  o'clock  the  following 
morning.  We  remain  over  a  day  here  with  James 
Bromley,  agent  of  the  Overland  Stage  line,  and  who 
is  better  known  on  the  plains  than  Shakspeare  is ; 
although  Shakspeare  has  done  a  good  deal  for  the 
stage.  James  Bromley  has  seen  the  Overland  line 
grow  up  from  its  ponyicy ;  and  as  Fitz-Green  Hal- 
'eck  happily  observes,  none  know  him  but  to  like  his 
style.  He  was  intended  for  an  agent.  In  his  in- 
fancy he  used  to  lisp  the  refrain, 


198  HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD  ! 

"  I  want  to  be  an  agent, 
And  with  the  agents  stand." 

I  part  with  this  kind-hearted  gentleman,  to  whose 
industry  and  ability  the  Overland  line  owes  much 
of  its  success,  with  sincere  regret;  and  I  hope  he 
will  soon  get  rich  enough  to  transplant  his  charming 
wife  fromHhe  Desert  to  the  "  White  Settlements." 

Forward  to  Fort  Bridger,  in  an  open  sleigh. 
Night  clear,  cold,  and  moonlit.  Driver  Mr.  Samuel 
Smart.  Through  Echo  Canon  to  Hanging  Rock 
Station.  The  snow  is  very  deep,  there  is  no  path, 
and  we  literally  shovel  our  way  to  Robert  Pollock's 
station,  which  we  achieve  in  the  Course  of  Time. 
Mr.  P.  gets  up  and  kindles  a  fire,  and  a  snowy 
nightcap  and  a  pair  of  very  bright  black  eyes  beam 
upon  us  from  the  bed.  That  is  Mrs.  Robert  Pol- 
lock. The  log  cabin  is  a  comfortable  one.  I  make 
coffee  in  my  French  coffee-pot,  and  let  loose  some 
of  the  roast  chickens  in  my  basket.  (Tired  of  fried 
bacon  and  saleratus  bread, — ^the  principal  bill  of  fare 
at  the  stations, — we  had  supplied  ourselves  with 
chicken,  boiled  ham,  onions,  sausages,  sea-bread, 
canned  butter,  cheese,  honey,  &c.  &c.,  an  example 


HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD  1  199 

all  Overland  traders  would  do  well  to  follow.)  Mrs. 
Pollock  tells  me  where  I  can  find  cream  for  the  cof- 
fee, and  cups  and  saucers  for  the  same,  and  appears 
so  kind,  that  I  regret  our  stay  is  so  limited  that  we 
can't  see  more  of  her. 

On  to  Yellow  Creek  Station.  Then  Needle  Rock 
— a  desolate  hut  on  the  Desert,  house  and  barn  in 
one  building.  The  station-keeper  is  a  miserable, 
toothless  wretch  with  shaggy  yellow  hair,  but  says 
he's  going  to  get  married.    I  think  I  see  him. 

To  Bear  River.  A  pleasant  Mormon  named 
Myers  keeps  this  station,  and  he  gives  us  a  first-rate 
breakfast.  Robert  Curtis  takes  the  reins  from  Mr. 
Smart  here,  and  we  get  on  to  wheels  again.  Begin 
to  see  groups  of  trees — a  new  sight  to  us. 

Pass  Quaking  Asp  Springs  and  Muddy  to  Fort 
Bridger.  Here  are  a  group  of  white  buildings, 
built  round  a  plaza,  across  the  middle  of  which  runs 
a  creek.  There  are  a  few  hundred  troops  here  un- 
der the  command  of  Major  Gallagher,  a  gallant 
officer  and  a  gentleman,  well  worth  knowing.  We 
stay  here  two  days. 

We  are  on  the  road  again,  Sunday  the  14th,  with 


200  HURRAH  FOB  THE  ROAD  I 

a  driver  of  the  highly  floral  name  of  Primrose.  At 
1  the  next  morning  we  reach  Green  River  Station, 
and  enter  Idaho  territory.  This  is  the  Bitter  Creek 
division  of  the  Overland  route,  of  which  we  had 
heard  so  many  unfavorable  stories.  The  division  is 
really  well  managed  by  Mr.  Stewart,  though  the 
country  through  which  it  stretches  is  the  most 
wretched  I  ever  saw.  The  water  is  liquid  alkali, 
and  the  roads  are  soft  sand.  The  snow  is  gone  now, 
and  the  dust  is  thick  and  blinding.  So  drearily, 
wearily  we  drag  onward. 

We  reach  the  summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
at  midnight  on  the  17th.  The  climate  changes  sud- 
denly, and  the  cold  is  intense.  We  resume  i-unners, 
have  a  break-down,  and  are  forced  to  walk  four 
miles. 

I  remember  that  one  of  the  numerous  reasons 
urged  in  favor  of  General  Fremont's  election  to 
the  Presidency  in  1856,  was  his  finding  the  path 
across  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Credit  is  certainly 
due  that  gallant  explorer  in  this  regard ;  but  it  oc- 
curred to  me,  as  I  wrung  my  frost-bitten  hands  on 
that  dreadful  night,  that  for  me  to  deliberately  go 


HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD !  201 

over  that  path  in  mid-winter  was  a  sufficient  reason 
for  my  election  to  any  hmatic  asylum,  by  an  over- 
whelming vote.  Dr.  Kingston  made  a  similar 
remark,  and  wondered  if  he  should  ever  cUnk 
glasses  with  his  friend  Lord  Palmerston  again. 

Another  sensation.  Not  comic  this  time.  One 
of  our  passengers,  a  fair-haired  German  boy,  whose 
sweet  ways  had  quite  won  us  all,  sank  on  the 
snow,  and  said — ^Let  me  sleep.  We  knew  only  too 
well  what  that  meant,  and  tried  hard  to  rouse  him. 
It  was  in  vain.  Let  me  sleep,  he  said.  And  so  in 
the  cold  starlight  he  died.  We  took  him  up  tenderly 
from  the  snow,  and  bore  him  to  the  sleigh  that 
awaited  us  by  the  roadside,  some  two  miles  away. 
The  new  moon  was  shining  now,  and  the  smile  on 
the  sweet  white  face  told  how  painlessly  the  poor 
boy  had  died.  No  one  knew  him.  He  was  from 
the  Bannock  mines,  was  ill  clad,  had  no  baggage  or 
money,  and  his  fare  was  paid  to  Denver.  He  had 
said  that  he  was  going  back  to  Germany.  That 
was  all  we  knew.  So  at  sunrise  the  next  morning 
we  buried  him  at  the  foot  of  the  grand  mountains 
that  are  snow-covered  and  icy  all  the  year  round, 

9* 


202  HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD  I 

far  away  from  the  Faderland,  where,  it  may  he, 
some  poor  mother  is  crying  for  her  darling  who 
will  not  come. 


We  strike  the  North  Platte  on  the  18th.  The 
fare  at  the  stations  is  daily  improving,  and  we  often 
have  antelope  steaks  now.  They  tell  us  of  eggs 
not  far  off,  and  we  encourage  (by  a  process  not 
wholly  unconnected  with  bottles)  the  drivers  to 
keep  their  mules  in  motion. 

Antelope  by  the  thousand  can  be  seen  racing  the 
plains  from  the  coach- windows. 

At  Elk  Mountain  we  encounter  a  religious  driver 
named  Edward  Whitney,  who  never  swears  at  the 
mules.  This  has  made  him  distinguished  all  over 
the  plains.  This  pious  driver  tried  to  convert  the 
Doctor,  but  I  am  mortified  to  say  that  his  efforts  were 
not  crowned  with  success.  Fort  Halleck  is  a  mile 
from  Elk,  and  here  ai:e  some  troops  of  the  Ohio 
11th  regiment,  imder  the  command  of  Major  Tho- 
mas L.  Mackey. 

On  the  20th  we  reach  Rocky  Thomas's  justly 
celebrated  station  at  5  in  the  morning,  and  have 


HURRAH   FOR  THE   ROAD  !  203 

a  breakfast  of  hashed  black- tailed  deer,  antelope 
steaks,  ham,  boiled  bear,  honey,  eggs,  coffee,  tea, 
and  cream.  That  was  the  squarest  meal  on  the 
road  except  at  Weber.  Mr.  Thomas  is  a  Baltimore 
"slosher,"  he  informed  me.  I  don't  know  what 
that  is,  but  he  is  a  good  fellow,  and  gave  us  a  break- 
fast fit  for  a  lord,  emperor,  czar,  count,  etc.  A 
better  couldn't  be  found  at  Delmonico's  or  Parker's. 
He  pressed  me  to  linger  with  him  a  few  days  and 
shoot  bears.  It  was  with  several  pangs  that  I 
declined  the  generous  Baltimorean's  invitation. 

To  Virginia  Dale.  Weather  clear  and  bright. 
Virginia  Dale  is  a  pretty  spot,  as  it  ought  to  be 
with  such  a  pretty  name;  but  I  treated  with  no 
little  scorn  the  advice  of  a  hunter  I  met  there,  who 
told  me  to  give  up  "  literatoor,"  form  a  matrimonial 
alliance  with  some  squaws,  and  "  settle  down  thar." 

Bannock  on  the  brain!  That  is  what  is  the 
matter  now.  Wagon-load  after  wagon-load  of  emi- 
grants, bound  to  the  new  Idaho  gold  regions,  meet 
us  every  hour.  Canvas-covered  and  drawn  for  the 
most  part  by  fine  large  mules,  they  make  a  pleasant 
panorama,  as  they  stretch  slowly  over  the  plains  and 


204  HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD! 

uplands.  We  strike  the  South  Platte  Sunday,  the 
21st,  and  breakfast  at  Latham,  a  station  of  one- 
horse  proportions.  We  are  now  in  Colorado  ("  Pike's 
Peak"),  and  we  diverge  from  the  main  route  here 
and  visit  the  flourishing  and  beautiful  city  of  Den- 
ver. Messrs.  Langrish  &  Dougherty,  who  have  so 
long  and  so  admirably  catered  to  the  amusement- 
lovers  of  the  Far  West,  kmdly  withdraw  their  dra- 
matic corps  for  a  night,  and  allow  me  to  use  their 
pretty  little  theatre. 

We  go  to  the  Mountains  from  Denver,  visiting 
the  celebrated  gold-mining  towns  of  Black  Hawk 
and  Central  City.  I  leave  this  queen  of  all  the 
territories,  quite  firmly  believing  that  its  future  is  to 
be  no  less  brilliant  than  its  past  has  been. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  to  mention  that  on  the 
way  from  Latham  to  Denver  Dr.  Kingston  and  Dr. 
Seaton  (late  a  highly  admired  physician  and  sur- 
geon in  Kentucky,  and  now  a  prosperous  gold-miner) 
had  a  learned  discussion  as  to  the  formation  of  the 
membranes  of  the  human  stomach,  in  which  they 
used  words  that  were  over  a  foot  long  by  actual 
measurement.    I  never  heard  such  splendid  words 


HURRAH  FOR  THE   ROAD !  205 

in  my  life ;  but  such  was  their  grandiloquent  profun- 
dity, and  their  far-reaching  lucidity,  that  I  under- 
stood rather  less  about  it  when  they  had  finished 
than  I  did  when  they  commenced. 


Back  to  Latham  again  over  a  marshy  road,  and 
on  to  Nebraska  by  the  main  stage-line. 

I  met  Col.  Chivington,  commander  of  the  Dis- 
trict of  Colorado,  at  Latham. 

Col.  Chivington  is  a  Methodist  clergyman,  and 
was  once  a  Presiding  Elder.  A  thoroughly  earnest 
man,  an  eloquent  preacher,  a  sincere  believer  in  the 
war,  he  of  course  brings  to  his  new  position  a 
great  deaV  of  enthusiasm.  This,  with  his  natural 
military  tact,  makes  him  an  officer  of  rare  ability ; 
and  on  more  occasions  than  one,  he  has  led  his 
troops  against  the  enemy  with  resistless  skill  and 
gallantry.  I  take  the  liberty  of  calling  the  Presi- 
dent's attention  to  the  fact  that  this  brave  man 
ought  to  have  long  ago  been  a  Brigadier-general. 

There  is,  however,  a  little  story  about  Col.  Chi- 
vington that  I  must  tell.  It  involves  the  use  of  a 
little  blank    profanity,   but    the    story   would    be 


206  HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD  ! 

spoiled  without  it ;  and,  as  in  this  case,  "  nothing 
was  meant  by  it,"  no  great  harm  can  be  done.  I 
rarely  stain  my  pages  with  even  mild  profanity.  It 
is  wicked  in  the  first  place,  and  not  fimny  in  the 
second.  I  ask  the  boon  of  being  occasionally  stu- 
pid ;  but  I  could  never  see  the  fun  of  being  impious. 

Col.  Chivington  vanquished  the  rebels,  with  his 
brave  Colorado  troops,  in  New  Mexico  last  year,  as 
most  people  know.  At  the  commencement  of  the 
action,  which  was  hotly  contested,  a  shell  from  the 
enemy  exploded  near  him,  tearing  up  the  ground, 
and  causing  Capt.  Rogers  to  swear  in  an  awful 
manner. 

"  Captain  Rogers,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  gentlemen 
do  not  swear  on  a  solemn  occasion  like  this.  We 
may  fall,  but,  falling  in  a  glorious  cause,  let  us  die 
as  Christians,  not  as  rowdies,  with  oaths  upon  our 
lips.     Captain  Rogers,  let  us '' 

Another  shell,  a  sprightlier  one  than  its  predeces- 
sor, tears  the  earth  fearfully  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  Col.  Chivington,  filling  his  eyes  with 
dirt,  and  knocking  ofi"  his  hat. 

"  Why,  G d their  souls  to  h ,"  he     * 


HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD  !  207 

roared,  "they've  put  my   eyes   out — as   Captain 
Rogers  would  say  !  " 

But  the  Colonel's  eyes  were  not  seriously 
damaged,  and  he  went  in.  Went  in,  only  to  come 
out  victorious. 


We  reach  Julesberg,  Colorado,  the  1st  of  March. 
We  are  in  the  country  of  the  Sioux  Indians  now, 
and  encounter  them  by  the  hundred.  A  Chief 
offers  to  sell  me  his  daughter  (a  fair  young  Indian 
maiden)  for  six  dollars  and  two  quarts  of  whiskey. 
I  decline  to  trade. 

Meals  which  have  hitherto  been  $1.00  each,  are 
now  75  cents.  Eggs  appear  on  the  table  occasion- 
ally, and  we  hear  of  chickens  further  on.  Nine 
miles  from  here  we  enter  Nebraska  territory.  Here 
is  occasionally  a  fenced  farm,  and  the  ranches  have 
bar-rooms.  Buffalo  skins  and  buffalo  tongues  are 
for  sale  at  most  of  the  stations.  We  reach  South 
Platte  on  the  2d,  and  Fort  Kearney  on  the  3d. 
The  Tth  Iowa  Cavalry  are  here,  under  the  command 
of  Major  Wood.  At  Cottonwood,  a  day's  ride 
back,  we  had  taken  aboard  Major  O'Brien,  com- 


208  HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD  I 

manding  the  troops  there,  and  a  very  jovial  warrior 
he  is,  too. 

Meals  are  now  down  to  60  cents,  and  a  great  deal 
better  than  when  they  vrere  $1.00. 

Kansas^  105  miles  from  Atchison.  Atchison  I 
No  traveller  by  sea  ever  longed  to  set  his  foot  on 
shore  as  we  longed  to  reach  the  end  of  our  dreary 
coach-ride  over  the  wildest  part  of  the  whole  conti- 
nent. How  we  talked  Atchison,  and  dreamed 
Atchison  for  the  next  fifty  hours  I  Atchison,  I  shall 
always  love  you.  You  were  evidently  mistaken, 
Atchison,  when  you  told  me  that  in  case  I  "lec- 
tured" there,  immense  crowds  would  throng  to  the 
hall ;  but  you  are  very  dear  to  me.  Let  me  kiss 
you  for  your  maternal  parent ! 

We  are  passing  through  the  reservation  of  the 
Otoe  Indians,  who  long  ago  washed  the  war-paint 
from  their  faces,  buried  the  tomaha-wk,  and  settled 
down  into  quiet,  prosperous  farmers. 


We  rattle  leisurely  into  Atchison  on  a  Sunday 
evening.  Lights  gleam  in  the  windows  of  milk- 
white  churches,  and  they  tell  us,  far  better  than 


The  Otoo  Indian  buries  liis  tomahawk,  and  setOes  down  to  farming.    ^«t  page  208. 


HURRAH  FOR  THE   ROAD  !  209 

anything  else  could,  that  we  are  back  to  civilization 
again. 

An  overland  journey  in  winter  is  a  better  thing 
to  have  done  than  to  do.  In  the  spring,  however, 
when  the  grass  is  green  on  the  great  prairies,  I 
fancy  one  might  make  the  journey  a  pleasant  one, 
with  his  own  outfit  and  a  few  choice  friends. 


xvn. 

VERT  MUCH  MARRIED. 

Are  the  Mormon  women  happy  ? 

I  give  it  up.    I  don't  know. 

It  is  at  Great  Salt  Lake  City  as  it  is  in  Boston. 
If  I  go  out  to  tea  at  the  Wilkinses  in  Boston,  I  am 
pretty  sure  to  find  Mr.  Wilkins  all  smiles  and  sun- 
shine, or  Mrs.  Wilkins  all  gentleness  and  politeness. 
I  am  entertained  delightfully,  and  after  tea  little 
Miss  Wilkins  shows  me  her  Photograph  Album,  and 
plays  the  march  from  Faust  on  the  piano  for  me.  I 
go  away  highly  pleased  with  my  visit ;  and  yet  the 
Wilkinses  may  fight  like  cats  and  dogs  in  private. 
I  may  no  sooner  have  struck  the  sidewalk  than  Mr. 
W.  will  be  reaching  for  Mrs.  W.'s  throat. 

Thus  it  is  in  the  City  of  the  Saints.  Apparently, 
the  Mormon  women  are  happy.  I  saw  them  at 
their  best,  of  course — at  balls,  tea-parties,  and  the 
like.    They  were  like  other  women  as  far  as  my 


VERY  MUCH   MARRIED.  211 

observation  extended.  They  were  hooped,  and 
furbelow ed,  and  shod,  and  white-collared,  and 
bejewelled;  and  like  women  all  over  the  world, 
they  were  softer-eyed  and  kinder-hearted  than  men 
can  ever  hope  to  be. 

The  Mormon  girl  is  reared  to  believe  that  the- 
plm-aUty  wife  system  (as  it  is  delicately  called  here) 
is  strictly  right ;  and  in  linking  her  destiny  with  a 
man  who  has  twelve  wives,  she  undoubtedly  consi- 
ders she  is  doing  her  duty.  She  loves  the  man,  pro- 
bably, for  I  think  it  is  not  true,  as  so  many  writers 
have  stated,  that  girls  are  forced  to  marry  whomso- 
ever "  the  Church"  may  dictate.  Some  parents  no 
doubt  advise,  connive,  threaten,  and  in  aggravated 
cases  incarcerate  here,  as  some  parents  have  always 
done  elsewhere,  and  always  will  do  as  long  as  petti- 
coats continue  to  be  an  institution. 

How  these  dozen  or  twenty  wives  get  along  with- 
out heartburnings  and  hairpuUings,  I  can't  see. 

There  are  instances  on  record,  you  know,  where  a 
man  don't  live  in  a  state  of  uninterrupted  bliss  with 
one  wife.  And  to  say  that  a  man  can  possess 
twenty  wives  without  having  his  special  favorite,  or 


212  VERY  MUCH  MARRIED. 

favorites,  is  to  say  that  he  is  an  angel  in  boots — 
which  is  something  I  have  never  been  introduced 
to.  You  never  saw  an  angel  with  a  Beard,  al- 
though you  may  have  seen  the  Bearded  Woman. 

The  Moimon  woman  is  early  taught  that  man, 
being  created  in  the  image  of  the  Saviour,  is  far 
more  godly  than  she  can  ever  be,  and  that  for  her 
to  seek  to  monopolize  his  affections  is  a  species  of 
rank  sin.  So  she  shares  his  affections  with  five  or 
six  or  twenty  other  women,  as  the  case  may  be. 

A  man  must  be  amply  able  to  support  a  number 
of  wives  before  he  can  take  them.  Hence,  perhaps, 
it  is  that  so  many  old  chaps  in  Utah  have  young 
and  blooming  wives  in  their  seraglios,  and  so  many 
yonng  men  have  only  one. 

I  had  a  man  pointed  out  to  me  who  married  an 
entire  family.  He  had  originally  intended  to  marry 
Jane,  but  Jane  did  not  want  to  leave  her  widowed 
mother.  The  other  three  sisters  were  not  in  the 
matrimonial  market  for  the  same  reason;  so  this 
gallant  man  married  the  whole  crowd,  including 
the  girl's  grandmother,  who  had  lost  all  her  teeth, 
and  had  to  be  fed  with  a  spoon.    The  family  were 


VERY   MUCH  MARRIED.  213 

in  indigent  circumstances,  and  they  could  not  but 
congratulate  themselves  on  securing  a  wealthy  hus- 
band. It  seemed  to  affect  the  grandmother  deeply, 
for  the  first  words  she  said  on  reaching  her  new 
home,  were :  "  Now,  thank  God !  I  shall  have  my 
gruel  reg'lar ! " 

The  name  of  Joseph  Smith  is  worshipped  in 
Utah ;  and,  "  they  say,"  that  although  he  has  been 
dead  a  good  many  years,  he  still  keeps  on  marrying 
women  loj proxy.  He  "reveals"  who  shall  act  as 
his  earthly  agent  in  this  matter,  and  the  agent 
faithfully  executes  the  defunct  Prophet's  commands. 

A  few  years  ago  I  read  about  a  couple  being 
married  by  telegraph — the  young  man  was  in  Cin- 
cinnati, and  the  young  woman  was  in  New  Hamp- 
shire. They  did  not  see  each  other  for  a  year  after- 
wards. I  don't  see  what  fun  there  is  in  this  sort  of 
thing. 

I  have  somewhere  stated  that  Brigham  Young 
is  said  to  have  eighty  wives.  I  hardly  think  he  has 
so  many.  Mr.  Hyde,  the  backslider,  says  in  his 
book  that  "  Brigham  always  sleeps  by  himself,  in  a 
little  chamber  behind  his  office ;"  and  if  he  has 


214:  VERY   MUCH   MARKIED. 

eighty  wives  I  don't  blame  him.  He  must  be  be- 
wildered. I  know  veiy  well  that  if  I  had  eighty- 
wives  of  my  bosom  I  should  be  confused,  and 
shouldn't  sleep  anywhere.  I  undertook  to  count 
the  long  stockings,  on  the  clothes-line,  in  his  back 
yard  one  day,  and  I  used  up  the  multiplication 
table  in  less  than  half  an  hour. 

In  this  book  I  am  writing  chiefly  of  what  I  saw. 
I  saw  Plurality  at  its  best,  and  I  give  it  to  you  at 
its  best.  I  have  shown  the  silver  lining  of  this 
great  social  Cloud.  That  back  of  this  silver  lining 
the  Cloud  must  be  thick  and  black,  I  feel  quite  sure. 
But  to  elaborately  denounce,  at  this  late  day,  a 
system  we  all  know  must  be  wildly  wrong,  would 
be  simply  to  impeach  the  intelligence  of  the  readers 
of  this  book. 


XVIII. 

THE  REVELATION  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH. 

I  have  not  troubled  the  reader  with  extracts  from 
Mormon  documents.  The  Book  of  Mormon  is  pon- 
derous, but  gloomy  and  at  times  incoherent,  and  I 
will  not,  by  any  means,  quote  from  that.  But  the 
Revelation  of  Joseph  Smith  in  regard  to  the  absorb- 
ing question  of  Plurality  or  Polygamy  may  be  of 
sufficient  interest  to  reproduce  here.  The  reader 
has  my  fuU  consent  to  form  his  own  opinion  of  it. 

REVELATION   GIVEN  TO  JOSEPH    SMITH,   NAUVOO, 
JULY    12,    1843. 

Verily,  thus  saith  the  Lord  unto  you,  my  servant 
Joseph,  that  inasmuch  as  you  have  inquired  of  my 
hand  to  know  and  understand  wherein  I,  the  Lord, 
justified  my  servants,  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob ; 
as  also  Moses,  David,  and  Solomon,  my  servants,  as 
touching  the  prmciple  and  doctrine  of  their  having 


216     THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH. 

many  wives  and  concubines :  Behold !  and  lo,  I  am 
the  Lord  thy  God,  and  will  answer  thee  as  touching 
this  matter  :  therefore  prepare  thy  heart  to  receive 
and  obey  the  instructions  which  I  am  about  to  give 
unto  you ;  for  all  those  who  have  this  law  revealed 
unto  them  must  obey  the  same ;  for  behold !  I  re- 
veal unto  you  a  new  and  an  everlasting  covenant, 
and  if  ye  abide  not  that  covenant,  then  are  ye 
damned ;  for  no  one  can  reject  this  covenant  and  be 
permitted  to  enter  into  my  glory ;  for  all  who  will 
have  a  blessing  at  my  hands  shall  abide  the  law 
which  was  appointed  for  that  blessing,  and  the  con- 
ditions thereof,  as  was  instituted  from  before  the 
foundations  of  the  world ;  and  as  pertaining  to  the 
new  and  everlasting  covenant,  it  was  instituted  for 
the  fulness  of  my  glory ;  and  he  that  receiveth  a 
fulness  thereof,  must  and  shall  abide  the  law,  or  he 
shall  be  damned,  saith  the  Lord  God. 

And  verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  the  conditions  of 
this  law  are  these :  All  covenants,  contracts,  bonds, 
obligations,  oaths,  vows,  performances,  connections, 
associations,  or  expectations,  that  are  not  made,  and 
entered  into,  and  sealed,  by  the  Holy  Spirit  of  pro- 


THE  REVELATIONS   OF  JOSEPH  SMITH.      217 

mise,  of  him  who  is  anointed,  both  as  well  for  time 

and  for  all  eternity,  and  that,  too,  most  holy,  by 

revelation  and  commandment,  through  the  medium 

of  mine  anointed,  whom  I  have  appointed  on  the 

earth  to  hold  this  power  (and  I  -have  appointed  unto 

my  servant  Joseph  to  hold  this  power  in  the  last 

days,  and  there  is  never  but  one  on  the  earth  at  a 

time  on  whom  this  power  and   the  keys   of  this 

priesthood  are  conferred),  are  of  no  efficacy,  virtue, 

or  force  in  and  after  the  resurrection  from  the  dead ; 

for  all  contracts  that  are  not  made  unto  this  end, 

have  an  end  when  men  are  dead. 

Behold !  mine  house  is  a  house  of  order,  saith  the 

Lord  God,  and  not  a  house  of  confusion.    Will  I 

accept  of  an  oifering,  saith  the  Lord,  that  is  not 

made  in  my  name  ?    Or  will  I  receive  at  your  hands 

that  which  I  have  not  appointed?      And  will  I 

appoint  unto  you,  saith  the  Lord,  except  it  be  by 

law,  even  as  I  and  my  Father  ordained  unto  you, 

before  the  world  was  ?    I  am  the  Lord  thy  God, 

and  I  give  unto  you  this  commandment,  that  no  man 

shall  come  unto  the  Father  but  by  me,  or  by  my 

word,  which  is  my  law,  saith  the  Lord ;  and  every 
10 


218     THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH. 

thing  that  is  in  the  world,  whether  it  be  ordained 
of  men,  by  thrones,  or  principalities,  or  powers,  or 
things  of  name,  whatsoever  they  may  be,  that  are 
not  by  me,  or  by  my  word,  saith  the  Lord,  shall  be 
thrown  down,  and  shall  not  remain  after  men  are 
dead,  neither  in  nor  after  the  resurrection,  saith  the 
Lord  your  God;  for  whatsoever  things  remaineth 
are  by  me,  and  whatsoever  things  are  not  by  me, 
shall  be  shaken  and  destroyed. 

Therefore,  if  a  man  marry  him  a  wife  in  the  world, 
and  he  marry  her  not  by  me,  nor  by  my  word,  and 
,  he  covenant  with  her  so  long  as  he  is  in  the  world, 
and  she  with  him,  their  covenant  and  marriage  is 
not  of  force  when  they  are  dead,  and  when  they  are 
out  of  the  world ;  therefore  they  are  not  bound  by 
any  law  when  they  are  out  of  the  world ;  therefore, 
when  they  are  out  of  the  world,  they  neither  marry 
nor  are  given  in  marriage,  but  are  appointed  angels 
in  heaven,  which  angels  are  ministermg  servants,  to 
minister  for  those  who  are  worthy  of  a  far  more, 
and  an  exceeding,  and  an  eternal  weight  of  glory ; 
for  these  angels  did  not  abide  my  law,  therefore  they 
can  not  be  enlarged,  but  remain  separately,  and 


THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH   SMITH.      219 

singly,  without  exaltation,  in  their  saved  condition, 
to  all  eternity,  and  from  henceforth  are  not  gods, 
but  are  angels  of  God  for  ever  and  ever. 

And  again,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  if  a  man  marry 
a  wife,  and  make  a  covenant  with  her  for  time  and 
for  all  eternity,  if  that  covenant  is  not  by  me  or  by 
my  word,  which  is  my  law,  and  is  not  sealed  by  the 
Holy  Spirit  of  promise,  through  him  whom  I  have 
anointed  and  appointed  unto  this  power,  then  it  is 
not  valid,  neither  of  force  when  they  are  out  of  the 
world,  because  they  are  not  joined  by  me,  saith  the 
Lord,  neither  by  my  word ;  when  they  are  out  of 
the  world,  it  can  not  be  received  there,  because  the 
angels  and  the  gods  are  appointed  there,  by  whom 
they  can  not  pass ;  they  can  not,  therefore,  inherit 
my  glory,  for  my  house  is  a  house  of  order,  saith 
the  Lord  God. 

And  agaiuj  verily  I  say  unto  you,  if  a  man  marry 
a  wife  by  my  word,  which  is  my  law,  and  by  the 
new  and  everlasting  covenant,  and  it  is  sealed  unto 
them  by  the  Holy  Spirit  of  promise,  by  him  who  is 
anointed,  unto  whom  I  have  appointed  this  power 
and  the  keys  of  this  priesthood,  and  it  shall  be  said 


220      THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH. 

unto  them,  Ye  shall  come  forth  in  the  first  resurrec- 
tion ;  and  if  it  be  after  the  first  resurrection,  in  the 
next  resurrection;  and  shall  inherit  thrones,  king- 
doms, principalities,  and  powers,  dominions,  all 
heights  and  depths,  then  shall  it  be  written  in  the 
Lamb's  Book  of  Life  that  he  shall  commit  no  mur- 
der whereby  to  shed  innocent  blood;  and  if  ye 
abide  in  my  covenant,  and  commit  no  murder 
whereby  to  shed  innocent  blood,  it  shall  be  done 
unto  them  in  all  things  whatsoever  my  servant  hath 
put  upon  them  in  time  and  through  all  eternity; 
and  shall  be  of  full  force  when  they  are  out  of  the 
world,  and  they  shall  pass  by  the  angels  and  the 
gods,  which  are  set  there,  to  their  exaltation  and 
glory  in  all  things,  as  hath  been  sealed  upon  their 
heads,  which  glory  shall  be  a  fulness  and  a  continu- 
ation of  the  seeds  for  ever  and  ever. 

Then  shall^  they  be  gods,  because  they  have  no 
end ;  therefore  shall  they  be  from  everlasting  to 
everlasting,  because  they  continue ;  then  shall  they 
be  above  all,  because  all  things  are  subject  unto 
them.  Then  shall  they  be  gods,  because  they  have 
all  power,  and  the  angels  are  subject  unto  tbem. 


THE   REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH.      221 

Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  except  ye  abide 
my  law',  ye  can  not  attain  to  this  gloiy ;  for  strait 
is  the  gate,  and  nai;row  the  way,  that  leadeth  unto 
the  exaltation  and  continuation  of  the  lives,  and  few 
there  be  that  find  ;it,  because  ye  receive  me  not  in 
the  world,  neither  do  ye  know  me.  But  if  ye 
receive  me  in  the  world,  then  shall  ye  know  me, 
and  shall  receive  your  exaltation,  that  where  I  am, 
ye  shall  be  also.  This  is  eternal  lives,  to  know  the 
only  wise  and  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  he 
hath  sent.  I  am  he.  Receive  ye,  therefore,  my 
law.  Broad  is  the  gate,  and  wide  the  way  that 
leadeth  to  the  death,  and  many  there  are  that  go  in 
thereat,  because  they  receive  me  not,  neither  do 
they  abide  in  my  law. 

Yerily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  if  a  man  marry  a 
wife  according  to  my  word,  and  they  are  sealed  by 
the  Holy  Spirit  of  promise  according  to  mine 
appointment,  and  he  or  she  shall  commit  any  sin 
or  transgression  of  the  new  and  everlasting  cove- 
nant whatever,  and  all  manner  of  blasphemies,  and 
if  they  commit  no  murder,  wherein  they  shed  inno- 
cent blood,  yet  they  shall  come  forth  in  the  first 


222      THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH. 

♦ 

resurrection,  and  enter  into  their  exaltation ;  but 
they  shall  be  destroyed  in  the  flesh,  and  shall  be 
delivered  unto  the  buffetings  of  Satan,  unto  the 
day  of  redemption,  saith  the  Lord  God. 

The  blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  which 
shall  not  be  forgiven  in  the  world  nor  out  of  the 
world,  is  in  that  ye  commit  murder,  wherein  ye 
shed  innocent  blood,  and  assent  unto  my  death, 
after  ye  have  received  my  new  and  everlasting 
covenant,  saith  the  Lord  God ;  and  he  that  abideth 
not  this  law  can  in  no  wise  enter  into  my  glory,  but 
shall  be  damned,  saith  the  Lord. 

I  am  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  will  give  unto  thee 
the  law  of  my  holy  priesthood,  as  was  ordained  by 
me  and  my  Father  before  the  world  was.  Abraham 
received  all  things,  whatsoever  he  received,  by 
revelation  and  commandment,  by  my  word,  saith 
the  Lord,  and  hath  entered  into  his  exaltation,  and 
sitteth  upon  his  throne. 

Abraham  received  promises  concerning  his  seed, 
and  of  the  fruit  of  his  loins — ^from  whose  loins  ye 
are,  viz.,  my  servant  Joseph — which  were  to  con- 
tinue so  long  as  they  were  in  the  world ;  and  as 


THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH.     223 

touching  Abraham  and  his  seed  out  of  the  world, 
they  should  continue;  both  in  the  world  and  out 
of  the  world  should  they  continue  as  innumerable 
as  the  stars ;  or,  if  ye  were  to  count  the  sand  upon 
the  sea-shore,  ye  could  not  number  them.  This 
promise  is  yours  also,  because  ye  are  of  Abraham, 
and  the  promise  was  made  unto  Abraham,  and  by 
this  law  are  the  continuation  of  the  works  of  my 
Father,  wherein  he  glorifieth  himself.  Go  ye,  there- 
fore, and  do  the  works  of  Abraham ;  enter  ye 
into  my  law,  and  ye  shall  be  saved.  But  if  ye 
enter  not  into  my  law,  ye  can  not  receive  the  pro- 
mises of  my  Father,  which  he  made  unto  Abra- 
ham. 

God  commanded  Abraham,  and  Sarah  gave 
Hagar  to  Abraham  to  wife.  And  why  did  she  do 
it?  Because  this  was  the  law,  and  from  Hagar 
sprang  many  people.  This,  therefore,  was  fulfilling, 
among  other  things,  the  promises.  Was  Abraham, 
therefore,  under  condemnation  ?  Verily,  I  say  unto 
you.  Nay  ;  for  the  Lord  commanded  it.  Abraham 
was  commanded  to  offer  his  son  Isaac ;  nevertheless, 
it  was  written.  Thou  shalt  not  kill.    Abraham,  how- 


224     THE   REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH. 

ever,  did  not  refuse,  and  it  was  accounted  unto  him 
for  righteousness. 

Abraham  received  concubines,  and  they  bare  him 
children,  and  it  was  accounted  unto  him  for  right- 
eousness, because  they  were  given  unto  him,  and  he 
abode  in  my  law;  as  Isaac  also,  and  Jacob,  did 
none  other  things  than  that  which  they  were  com- 
manded; and  because  they  did  none  other  things 
than  that  which  they  were  commanded,  they  have 
entered  into  their  exaltation,  according  to  the  pro- 
mises, and  sit  upon  thrones  ;  and  are  not  angels,  but 
are  gods.  David  also  received  many  wives  and 
concubines,  as  also  Solomon,  and  Moses  my  servant, 
as  also  many  others  of  my  servants,  from  the 
beginning  of  creation  until  this  time,  and  in 
nothing  did  they  sin,  save  in  those  things  which 
they  received  not  of  me. 

David's  wives  and  concubines  were  given  unto 
him  of  me  by  the  hand  of  Nathan  my  servant,  and 
others  of  the  prophets  who  had  the  keys  of  this 
power;  and  in  none  of  these  things  did  he  sin 
against  me,  save  in  the  case  of  Uriah  and  his  wife ; 
and,  therefore,  he  hath  fallen  from  his  exaltation, 


THE  EEVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH.   225 

and  received  his  portion ;  and  he  shall  not  inherit 
them  out  of  the  world,  for  I  gave  them  mito 
another,  saith  the  Lord. 

I  am  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  I  gave  unto  thee, 
my  servant  Joseph,  by  appointment,  and  restore  all 
things ;  ask  what  ye  will,  and  it  shall  be  given  unto 
you,  according  to  my  word ;  and  as  ye  have  asked 
concerning  adultery,  verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
if  a  man  receiveth  a  wife  in  the  new  and  everlast- 
ing covenant,  and  if  she  be  with  another  man,  and 
I  have  not  appointed  unto  her  by  the  holy  anoint- 
ing, she  hath  committed  adultery,  and  shall  be 
destroyed.  If  she  be  not  in  the  new  and  everlast- 
ing covenant,  and  she  be  with  another  man,  she  has 
committed  adultery;  and  if  her  husband  be  with 
another  woman,  and  he  was  under  a  vow,  he  hath 
broken  his  vow,  and  hath  committed  adultery ;  and 
if  she  hath  not  committed  adultery,  but  is  innocent, 
and  hath  not  broken  her  vow,  and  she  knoweth  it, 
and  I  reveal  it  unto  you,  my  servant  Joseph,  then 
shall  you  have  power,  by  the  power  of  my  holy 
priesthood,  to  take  her,  and  give  her  unto  him  that 

hath  not  committed  adultery,  but  hath  been  faithful; 
10* 


226      THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH. 

for  he  shall  be  made  ruler  over  many ;  for  I  have 
conferred  iipon  you  the  keys  and  power  of  the 
priesthood,  wherein  I  restore  all  things,  and  make 
known  unto  you  all  things  in  due  time. 

And  verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  that. whatso- 
ever you  seal  on  earth  shall  be  sealed  in  heaven ; 
and  whatsoever  you  bind  on  earth,  in  my  name  and 
by  ray  word,  saith  the  Lord,  it  shall  be  eternally 
bound  in  the  heavens;  and  whosesoever  sins  you 
remit  on  earth,  shall  be  remitted  eterrfally  in  the 
heavens ;  and  whosesoever  sins  yq^i  retain  on  earth, 
shall  be  retained  in  heaven. 

And  again,  verily,  I  say,  whomsoever  you  bless, 
I  will  bless;  and  whomsoever  you  curse,  I  will 
curse,  saith  the  Lord ;  for  I,  the  Lord,  am  thy 
God. 

And  again,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  my  servant 
Joseph,  that  whatsoever  you  give  on  earth,  and  to 
whomsoever  you  give  any  one  on  earth,  by  my 
word  and  according  to  my  law,  it  shall  be  visited 
with  blessings  and  not  cursings,  and  with  ray  power, 
saith  the  Lord,  and  shall  be  without  conderanation 
on  earth  and  in  heaven,  for  I  am  the  Lord  thy  God, 


THE   REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH.     227 

and  will  be  with  thee  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world,  and  through  all  eternity;  for  verily  I  seal 
upon  you  your  exaltation,  and  prepare  a  throne  for 
you  in  the  kingdom  of  my  Father,  with  Abraham 
your  father.  Behold  !•  I  have  seen  your  sacrifices, 
and  will  forgive  all  your  sins;  I  have  seen  your 
sacrifices,  in  obedience  to  that  which  I  have  told 
you;  go,  therefore,  and  I  make  a  way  for  your 
escape,  as  I  accepted  the  offering  of  Abraham, 
of  his  son  Isaac. 

Yerily,  I  say  unto  you,  a  commandment  I  give 
unto  mine  handmaid,  Emma  Smith,  your  wife, 
whom  I  have  given  unto  you,  that  she  stay  herself, 
and  partake  not  of  that  which  I  commanded  you  to 
offer  unto  her ;  for  I  did  it,  saith  the  Lord,  to  prove 
you  all,  as  I  did  Abraham,  and  that  I  might  require 
an  offering  at  your  hand  by  covenant  and  sacrifice ; 
and  let  mine  handmaid,  Emma  Smith,  receive  all 
those  that  have  been  given  unto  my  servant  Joseph, 
and  who  are  virtuous  and  pure  before  me;  and 
those  who  are  not  pure,  and  have  said  they  were 
pure,  shall  be  destroyed,  saith  the  Lord  God ;  for  I 
am  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  ye  shall  obey  my  voice ; 


228      THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH. 

and  I  give  unto  my  servant  Joseph,  that  he  shall  be 
made  ruler  over  many  things,  for  he  hath  been  faith- 
ful over  a  few  things,  and  from  henceforth  I  will 
strengthen  him. 

And  I  command  mine  handmaid,  Emma  Smith, 
to  abide  and  cleave  unto  my  servant  Joseph,  and  to 
none  else.  But  if  she  will  not  abide  this  command- 
ment, she  shall  be  destroyed,  saith  the  Lord,  for  I 
am  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  will  destroy  her  if  she 
abide  not  in  my  law ;  but  if  she  will  not  abide  this 
commandment,  then  shall  my  servant  Joseph  do  all 
things  for  her,  as  he  hath  said;  and  I  will  bless 
him,  and  multiply  him,  and  give  unto  him  an  hun- 
dred-fold in  this  world,  of  fathers  and  mothers, 
brothers  and  sisters,  houses  and  lands,  wives  and 
children,  and  crowns  of  eternal  lives  in  the  eternal 
worlds.  And  again,  verily  I  say,  let  mine  hand- 
maid forgive  my  servant  Joseph  his  trespasses,  and 
then  shall  she  be  forgiven  her  trespasses,  wherein 
she  hath  trespassed  against  me;  and  I,  the  Lord 
thy  God,  will  bless  her,  and  multiply  her,  and  make 
her  heart  to  rejoice.  .     . 

And  again,  I  say,  let  not  my  servant  Joseph  put 


THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH.      229 

his  property  out  of  his  hands,  lest  an  enemy  come 
and  destroy  him — for  Satan  seeketh  to  destroy — for 
I  am  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  he  is  my  servant ;  and 
behold!  and  lo,  I  am  with  him,  as  I  was  with 
Abraham  thy  father,  even  unto  his  exaltation  and 
glory. 

Now,  as  touching  the  law  of  the  priesthood, 
there  are  many  things  pertaining  thereunto.  Verily, 
if  a  man  be  called  of  my  Father,  as  was  Aaron,  by 
mine  own  voice,  and  by  the  voice  of  him  that  sent 
me,  and  I  have  endowed  him  with  the  keys  of  the 
power  of  this  priesthood,  if  he  do  any  thing  in  my 
name,  and  according  to  my  law,  and  by  my  word, 
he  will  not  commit  sin,  and  I  will  justify  him.  Let 
no  one,  therefore,  set  on  my  servant  Joseph,  for  I 
will  justify  him;  for  he  shall  do  the  sacrifice  which 
I  require  at  his  hands,  for  his  transgressions,  saith 
the  Lord  your  God. 

And  again,  as  pertaining  to  the  law  of  the  priest- 
hood ;  if  any  man  espouse  a  virgin,  and  desire  to 
espouse  another,  and  the  first  give  her  consent ;  and 
if  he  espouse  the  second,  and  they  are  virgins,  and 
have  vowed  to  no  other  man,  then  is  he  justified ; 


230      THE  KEVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH. 

he  can  not  commit  adultery,  for  they  are  given  unto 
him ;  for  he  can  not  commit  adultery  with  that  that 
belongeth  unto  him,  and  to  none  else ;  and  if  he 
have  ten  virgins  given  unto  him  by  this  law,  he  can 
not  commit  adultery,  for  they  belong  to  him,  and 
they  are  given  unto  him ;  therefore  is  he  justified. 
But  if  one  or  either  of  the  ten  virgins,  after  she  is 
espoused,  shall  be  with  another  man,  she  has  com- 
mitted adultery,  and  shall  be  destroyed ;  for  they 
are  given  unto  him  to  multiply  and  replenish  the 
earth,  according  to  my  commandment,  and  to  fulfil 
the  promise  which  was  given  by  my  Father  before 
the  foundation  of  the  world,  and  for  their  exalta- 
tion in  the  eternal  worlds,  that  they  may  bear  the 
souls  of  men ;  for  herein  is  the  work  of  my  Father 
continued,  that  he  may  be  glorified. 

And  again,  verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  if  any 
man  have  a  wife  who  holds  the  keys  of  this  power, 
and  he  teaches  unto  her  the  law  of  my  priesthood 
as  pertaining  to  these  things,  then  shall  she  believe 
and  administer  unto  him,  or  she  shall  be  destroyed, 
saith  the  Lord  your  God ;  for  I  will  destroy  her ; 
for  I  will  magnify  my  name  upon  all  those  who 


THE  REVELATIONS  OF  JOSEPH  SMITH.  231 

receive  and  abide  in  my  law.  Therefore  it  shall  be 
lawful  in  me,  if  she  receive  not  this  law,  for  him  to 
receive  all  things  whatsoever  I,  the  Lord  his  God, 
will  give  unto  him,  because  she  did  not  believe  and 
administer  unto  him  according  to  my  word;  and 
she  then  becomes  the  transgressor,  and  he  is  exempt 
from  the  law  of  Sarah,  who  administered  unto 
Abraham  according  to  the  law,  when  I  commanded 
Abraham  to  take  Hagar  to  wife.  And  now,  as  per- 
taining to  this  law,  verily,  verily,  I  say  imto  you,  I 
will  reveal  more  unto  you  hereafter,  therefore  let 
this  suffice  for  the  present.  Behold!  I  am  Alpha 
and  Omega.     A^ien. 


THE  SNB, 


There  is  a  kind  of  physiognomy  in  the  titles 
of  books  no  less  than  in  the  faces  of 
men,bywhich  a  skilful  observer 
will  know  as  well  what  to  ex- 
pect from  the  one  as  the 
other,** — ^Butler. 


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*j^*  Also  a  smaller  edition,  without  illustrations.  .     $1.00 

Richard  R  KlmbalL 

WAS  HE  SUCCESSFUL.-        A  novcl.  1  zmo.  cloth,  $1.75 

UNDERCURRENTS.-  do.  do.  $1.75 

SAINT  LEGER.-  do.  do.  $1.75 

ROMANCE  OF  STUDENT  LITE.-  do.  do.  $1.75 

IN  THE  TROPICS.-  do,  do.  $1«75 


BY  GEO.    W.   CARLETON,  NEW  YORK. 


do. 

$1.50 

do. 

$i.ro 

do. 

$i.S. 

do. 

$i.5C 

do. 

S1.5C 

do. 

li.^c 

do. 

$1.50 

do. 

$1.50 

A.  S.  Roe's  TV^orks. 

1  LONG  LOOK  AHEAD.—         A  novel.  izmo.  cloth,  $1.50 

TO  LOVE  AND  TO  BE  LOVED.—  do.  . 

TIME  AND  TIDE.—  do.  . 

TVE  BEEN  THINKING.—  do.  . 

THE  STAE  AND  THE  CLOUD.—  do.  , 

TRUE  TO  THE  LAST.—  do.  , 

BOW  COULD  HE  HELP  IT.—  do.  . 

.IKE  AND  UNLIKE.—  do.  . 

LOOKING  AEOUND.—  Just  published, 

AValter  Barrett,  Clerk. 

OLD  MERCHANTS  OF  NEW  TOKK.— Being  personal  incidents, 
interesting  sketches,  bits  of  biography,  and  gossipy  events 
in  the  life  of  nearly  every  leading  merchant  in  New  York 
City.     Three  series.      .         .  i2mo.  cloth,  each,  $1.75 

T.  S.  Arthur's  "Serw  TWorks. 

LIGHT  ON  SHADOWED  PATHS.— A  noVcL  1  2mO.  cloth,  I1.50 

OUT  IN  THE  WORLD.—  do.  .  do.  S1.50 

NOTHING  BUT  MONET.—  ,  do  .  do.  $1.50 

WHAT  CAME  AFTEKWARDS.-  .    .  do.  $1.50 

Orpliens  C  Kerr, 
ORPHEUS  C.  KEER  PAPERS.— Three  series,     izmo.  cloth,  $1.50 
THE  PALACE  BEAUTIFUL.— And  Other  pocms.      do.         $1.50 

M.  Iwrichelct's  Works. 

LOVE  (L' AMOUR).— From  the  French.  i2mo.  cloth,  $1.50 

WOMAN  (LA  FEMME.)-  do.  .  .  do.  $1.50 

WOMAN'S  PHILOSOPHY  OF  WOMAN.—By  Hericourt,    do       $1.50 

Sdmund  Kirke. 

AMONG  THE  PINES.— A  Southern  sketch.      izmo.  cloth,  $1.50 

MY  SOUTHERN  FRIENDS.—  do.  do.  .  $1.50 

DOWN  IN  TENNESSEE.— Just  published.      .  do.  $1.50 

Cutbbert  Bede. 
VERDANT  GREEN.— A    rollicking,  humorous  novel  of   English 
student  life ;  with  200  comic  illustrations.   1 2^0,  cloth,  $1.50 
NEARER  AND  DEARER.- A  novel,  illustrated,    izmo.  clo.  $1.50 

Ernest  Reuan. 
iHE  LIFE  OF  JESUS.— Translated  by  C.  E.  Wilbour  from  the 
celebrated  French  work.  .  .  izmo.  cloth,  $1.75 

RELIGIOUS  HISTORY  AND  CRITICISM.—  8vO.  cloth,  $Z.50 

Cnyler  Pine. 

MARY  BRANDEGEE.— An  American  novel.  $1.75 

A.  NEW  NOVEL.— /;z  press.    .         .  .         .         $1.75 


LIST  OF  BOOKS  PUBLISHED 


Josli  Billings. 

HIS  BOOK.— Containing  all  the  rich  comic  sayings  of  this  cele- 
brated writer.     Illustrated.    In  press,    l2mo.  cloth,  $1.50 
Epes  Sargent. 
PECULIAR.— One  of  the  most  remarkable  and  successful  novels 
published  in  this  country.     .  .  izmo.  cloth,  $1.75 

Mrs.  Kitcliie  (Anna  Cora  Monratt). 
FAIRY  FINGERS.- A  new  novel.  .  12 mo.  cloth,  $1.75 

THE  MUTE  SINGER.-      do.  InpTCSS,  do.  $1-75 

Robert  B.  Roosevelt. 

THE  GAME  FISH  OF  THE  NORTH.-IlluStrated.       12mO.   cl.  $2.00 
SUPERIOR  FISHING.-  do.  do.         $2.00 

THE  GAME  BIRDS  OF  THE  NORTH.-Z/Z  prCSS.  do.         $2.00 

Jolin  Plioenix. 

THE  SQUIBOB  PAPERS.-A  ncw  humorous  volume,  filled  with 

comic  illustrations  by  the  author.  12  mo.  cloth,  $1.50 

X  Sberldan  I^e  Fanu. 

WYLDEr's  HAND.— a  powerful  new  novel.    i2mo.  cloth,  $1.75 

THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  CHURCHYARD.-      do.  do.  $1.75 

P.  T.  Baruum. 
THE  HUMBUGS  OF  THE  y^oiLLD-ln pvess.    i2mo.  cloth,  81.75 

Cbarles   Reade. 
THE  CLOISTER  AND  THE  HEARTH.— A  magnificent  ncw  novel,  by 
the  author  of  "Hard  Cash,"  etc.    .         8vo.  cloth,  $2.00 
Tbe  Opera. 
TALES  FROM  THE  OPERAS.-A  collection  of  clcvcr  stories,  based 
upon  the  plots  of  all  the  famous  operas.     i2mo.  cl.,  $1.50 
J.  C.  Jeaffreson. 
A  BOOK  ABOUT   DOCTORS.-An    entertaining    volume    about 
famous  physicians  and  surgeons.     ,  i2mo.  cloth,  $1.75 

P.  D.  Guerrazzl. 
BEATRICE  CENCI.— The  great  historical  novel.    Translated  from 
the  Italian;  with  a  portrait  of  the  Cenci,  from  Guido's 
famous  picture  in  Rome.       .  .  i2mo.  cloth,  $1.75 

Private  Miles  O'ReiUy. 
HIS  BOOK.-Comic  songs,  speeches,  etc.        i2mo.  cloth,  $1.50 

A  NEW  BOOK.-Jn press do.         $1.50 

Rev.  Jobn  Cnmmlng,  B.D.,  of  liOndon. 
THE  GREAT  TRIBULATION.— Two  series.         1 2mo.  cloth,  $1.50 

THE  GREAT  PREPARATION.-        do.  ,  do.  $1.50 

THE  GREAT  CONSUMMATION.-   do.  .  do.  $1.50 


BY  GEO.   W.  CABLE  ton;  NEW  YORK. 


Gomery  of  Montgomery. 

A  striking  new  novel.         One  thick  vol.,  izmo.  cloth,  $2.00 

M.  A.  Fisher. 
,A  spinster's  stort.-A  novel.  In  press,    izmo.  cloth,  $1.75 

Novels  1>y  Rufflni. 

DR.  ANTONio.-A  lovc  story  of  Italy.  izmo.  cloth,  $1.75 

lavinia;  or,  the  ITALIAN  artist.-  do.         $1.75 

VINCENZO;    OR,  SUNKEN  ROCKS.-  8v0.  cloth,  $1.75 

Mother  Goose  for  Grown  Folks. 

HUMOROUS  RHYMES  for  grown  people ;  based  upon  the  famous 
"Mother  Goose  Melodies."  .  .        izmo.  cloth,  $1.00 

The  New  York  Central  Park. 

A  SUPERB  GIFT  BOOK.-The  Central  Park  pleasantly  described, 
and  magnificently  embellished  with  more  than  50  exquisite 
photographs  of  the  principal  views  and  objects  of  interest. 
A  large  quarto  volume,  sumptuously  bound  in  Turkey 
morocco.     An  elegant  Presentation  Book.  $30.00 

M.  T.  TFalworth. 
LULU.-A  new  novel.         .  .  .  izmo.  cloth,  $1.50 

HOTSPUR.-     do.  .  .  .  do.  $1.50 

Author  of  «  Olle." 

NEPENTHE.-A  ncw  novcl.  .         .  izmo.  cloth,  $1.50 

TOGETHER.—  do.  .  .  do.  $1.50 

N.  H.  Chamberlain. 

THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  NEW  ENGLAND  FARM-HOUSE.-$  1 . 7  5 

Amelia  B.  Fdwards. 

BALLADS.-By  author  of  "  Barbara's  History."  $1.50 

S.  M.  Johnson. 
FREE  GOVERNMENT  IN  ENGLAND  AND  AMERICA.-8vO.  cl.  $3.00 

Captain  Semmes. 

CRUISE  OF  THE  ALABAMA  AND  SUMTER.-         I  ZmO.   clo.,  $Z.OO 

Hew^es  Gordon. 

LOVERS  AND  THINKERS.-A  neW  nOVCl.        .  .  .       $1.50 

Caroline  May. 

POEMS.-Printed  on  tinted  paper.  izmo.  cloth,  $1.50 

James  H.  Hackett. 

NOTES  AND  COMMENTS  ON  SHAKSPEARE.-    1  ZmO.  cloth,  $1.50 

Stephen  Massett. 

DRIFTING  ABOUTj-Comic  book,  illustrated,  izmo.  cloth,  $1.50 


8     LIST  OF  BOOKS  PUBLISHED  BY  CARLETON^  NEW  YORK. 

Miscellaneous  Works. 

VICTOIRE.-A  new  novel.      .         .         .      izmo.  cloth,  $1.75 

QUEST.—  do.  .         .         .  do.  $1.50 

POEMS.-B7  Mrs.  Sarah  T.  Bolton.         .  do.  $1.50 

THE  MORGESONS.-A  novel  by  Mrs.  Stoddard.        do.  $1.50 

THE  SUPPRESSED  BOOK  ABOUT  SLAVERY.-  do.  $2.00 

JOHN  GUILDEESTRING'S  SIN.— A  novel.    .    1 2mo.  cloth,  $1.50 

CENTEOLA.— By  author  "  Green  Mountain  Boys."   do.  $1.50 

RED  TAPE  AND  PIGEON-HOLE  GENERALS.—   .  do.  $1.50 

THE  PARTISAN  LEADER.— By  Beverly  Tucker.        do.  81.50 

TREATISE  ON  DEAFNESS.— By  Dr.  E.  B.  Lighthill.  do.  $1.50 

THE  PRISONER  o^  STATE.— By  D.  A.  Mahoney.     do.  $1.50 

AROUND  THE  PYRAMIDS.— By  Gen.  Aaron  Ward.  do.  $1.50 

CHINA  AND  THE  CHINESE.— By  W.  L.  G.  Smith,  do.  $1.50 

THE  "WINTHROPS.- A  novel  by  J.  R.  Beckwith.      do.  $1.75 

SPREES  AND  SPLASHES.— By  Henry  Morford.        do.  $1.50 

GARRET  VAN  HORN.— A  novel  by  J.  S.  Sauzade.     do.  $1.50 

SCHOOL  FOR  TtiE  SOLDIER.- By  Capt.  Van  Ness.  do.  50  cts. 

THE  YACHTMAN'S  PRIMER.— By  T.  R.  Warren,     do.  50  cts. 

EDGAR  POE  AND  HIS  CRITICS.- By  Mrs.  Whitman,  do.  $1.00 

ERIC;  OR,  LITTLE  BY  LITTLE.— By  F.  W.  Farrar.    do.  $I.CO 

SAINT  WINIFRED'S.— By  the  author  of  "Eric."       do.  $1.50 

A  WOMAN'S  THOUGHTS  ABOUT  WOMEN—       .  do.  $1.50 

MARRIED  OFF.— Illustrated  satirical  poem.     .         do.  50  cts 

SCHOOL-DAYS  OF  EMINENT  MEN.~By  Timbs.  do.  $1.50 

ROMANCE  OF  A  POOR  YOUNG  MAN.—   .  .  do.         $1.50 

THE  FLYING  DUTCHMAN.— J.  G.  Saxe,  illustrated,  do.  75  cts. 

ALEXANDER  VON  nuMBOLDT.—Life  and  travels,     do.  $1.50 

LIFE  OF  HUGH  MILLER— The  celebrated  geologist,  do.  $1.50 

TACTICS ;  or,  Cupid  in  Shoulder-Straps.        .         do.  ^1.50 

DEBT  AND  GRACK-By  Rev.  C.  F.  Hudson.  do.  $1.75 

THE  RUSSIAN  BALL.— Illustrated  satirical  poem.     do.  50  cts. 

THE  SNOBLACE  BALL.—    do.  do.       do.  do.  50  CtS. 

TEACH  US  TO  PRAY.-By  Dr.  Cumming.       .         do.  $1.50 

AN  ANSWER  TO  HUGH  MiLLER.-By  T.  A.  Davies.  do.  $1.50 
C0SM060NY.-By  Thomas  A.  Davies.     .         8vo.  cloth,  S2.00 

TWENTY  YEARS  around  the  World.   J.  Guy  Vassar.  do.  $3.75 

TEIE  SLAVE  POWER.— By  J.  E.  Cairnes.  .         .         do.  82.00 

RURAL  ARCHITECTURE.— By  M.  Field,  illustrated,    do.  82.00 


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